After the Rain
by Arret
Summary: The events after Evey is released by V. In my version, V was a lot more brutal to Evey during her incarceration than the movie portrayed. Is forgiveness possible? Movieverse with GN infuence. VxEV Warning: Sexual situations and references to torture.
1. Trust

**Disclaimer: V for Vendetta belongs to Alan Moore, David Lloyd and DC Comics and anyone else I've failed to mention. I own nothing, nothing, nothing...**

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Evey barely registered the creaks and rattles of the lift as it descended to the Shadow Gallery. Hollow and husked out, she held onto the crisscrossing lattices of the metal frame of the cubicle to support her. With detachment, she observed hard goose bumps covering every millimeter of the skin on her arms and her nipples standing out in sharp points underneath the filthy orange prison rag. _The rain was freezing. _Despite her hold on the sides of the lift, deep shivers unsteadied her legs.

From behind her, she felt V's gloved hand come to rest underneath her elbow to keep her from collapsing. Evey had purposely turned her back on him so she could collect herself, knowing that looking at his perpetually grinning mask would make equilibrium impossible. After steadying herself, she felt him remove his hand and was grateful to feel the blanket he was holding carefully placed on her shoulders. He had been silent since the rooftop and Evey was appreciative of his tact.

V pulled back the retractable metal door of the lift when it came to a halt and held it open for Evey to step through. As he followed her, V watched her hesitant progress with a critical eye, unready to consider what he had seen on the roof.

_She's holding her left arm close to her body, not broken, but it's likely the shoulder is dislocated (that was from when you were interrogating her and you were rewarding her refusals by twisting her arm further and further out behind her). _

_Her right ankle seems tender but she is putting some weight on it so it's probably just sprained (well, of course it's sprained! you remember, you threw her into the cell like a rag doll and before she could break her fall…). _

_I need to tend her injuries and examine her more closely to see if there are others (the look she'll give you when you tell her will be priceless and only what you deserve, monster)._

_It was necessary to increase the severity of the beatings in order to bring this to an end and as much as she hates me it is a fraction of how much I hate myself!_

V silenced the voices in his head. After years of practice, he could do this very easily and he no longer wondered if voices were due to his isolation or mental instability. He turned his attention back to Evey and noted that despite her injuries she was holding her back straight and her chin was tilted up. If he needed a reminder of what the months of torture had been for, he needed only remember watching her on the roof. The hint of bravery he saw in her at Jordan Tower was now evident in her every movement and could have only been revealed through this cruel lesson.

_And since you know you cannot see yourself,  
so well as by reflection, I, your glass,  
will modestly discover to yourself,  
that of yourself which you yet know not of_ (1).

_A monster I may be, but even monsters can love._

Evey stopped and turned around to face him. The mask was always inscrutable but his voice and graceful body language were usually enough for Evey to get some idea about how he was feeling. Silent and standing with his hands clasped at his waist, as he was now, he could be thinking about bombs or Shakespeare for all she knew. _Maybe none of this seems out of the ordinary to him. _

"Evey?" His voice was cool and soft.

She shook her head and then looked down at her grimy hands and her orange garb with disgust. "I'm going to get a bath."

He nodded and resisted the urge to ask her if she needed help. _She will want to do this herself._

As Evey made her way to the bathroom she had used when she had first come to the Shadow Gallery (_a thousand years ago, right?_), she felt disorientation as she passed the couch where she and V once had animated discussions on books and music. She began to feel her aches and pains returning and relished the idea of sitting in the tub for a long soak. She recalled being doused with a fire hose once a week with either freezing or scalding water and felt a surge of hatred for V.

The jolly voice of one of V's more brutal guard personas spoke in her mind. "_Don't want to waste too much water on little whore like you but the stench is killing me. You smell like fish that's been sitting in a garbage bin for a week." _

Jenkins. He had been the one who she thought was going to rape her. Evey couldn't remember what she said to set him off but could remember being thrown face down onto the cement of the cell and feeling his knee pressing down on her back.

She had felt his hands close tightly around her neck and him leaning down and whispering in her ear. "_Do you know how easy it would be for me to kill you?" _His gloved hands tightened around her neck until her air was cut off and she began seeing spots before her eyes.

Releasing her, he gave a hard laugh. "_I'm not going to do that. Do you know why?" _When she had remained silent, he grabbed her hand at her lack of response and started pulling her ring finger back at an unnatural angle. Feeling tears in her eyes at the pain, she asked him why. He released her hand and said gleefully, "_Because this would end for you." _

He had shifted his weight and she felt his knees now positioned outside of her thighs. His hand insinuated itself between her legs and she felt him push his gloved index finger inside of her; "_There are other ways to punish you for your lack of respect_." She choked out a sob and begged him to stop. Laughing again, he said. _"I'll stop because I really don't want to be delousing all week and it looks like you've remembered your place. Next time, I won't stop." _She had stayed on the floor, too frightened to move, as she felt his weight lifted off of her and heard the sound of the cell door slamming shut.

Her face flushing an ugly brick red at the recollection, Evey opened the door to the bathroom and wondered if V would have made good on his promise or if that was a line he was unwilling to cross. She flicked the switch and saw the bathroom was much as she left it except that all of her favorite bath soaps were restocked. In addition, there were fluffy white towels and a bathrobe folded neatly on the sink next to the tub. _He put them there for me. What kind of man can kick me in the ribs with a steel-toed boot but also remember my favorite brand of shampoo? _

An hour later, she came out in her bathrobe hoping to find something to eat. Evey was unsurprised to see V at the stove stirring a pot, from which a delicious aroma was wafting. His mask turned in her direction and he silently gestured her to sit down at the table, which was set for one as always.

As she sat down, Evey was slightly relieved to see he wasn't wearing his usual ridiculous flowered apron or humming to himself. In her current state of mind, she wasn't sure if she would have started giggling or crying. He set out a bowl of homemade vegetable soup and fresh bread and Evey felt her stomach cramp in anticipation. She would have been happy with soup out of a can but knew V would have considered that blasphemous. "_Some things should be done efficiently, but cooking isn't one of them," _she recalled him answering when she had asked him why he didn't have so much as a microwave in his kitchen.

After giving her the food, he turned his back to her and busied himself wiping the spotlessly clean counter. As Evey, ate her soup she found herself surprised that she was sad that the pleasant conversations they had over meals were now over. Granted, he had never eaten with her but he had always lingered by the stove talking with her.

"Thank you," Evey said quietly after she finished her meal.

"You're welcome," V said briefly as he cleared away the plates and put them in the sink.

He turned to face her and Evey once again felt uncomfortable under his blank gaze. "Well, I'm going to bed."

"Evey, I know you want to go to sleep but I'm afraid there's one more task to be performed," V said calmly.

Evey felt her pulse speed up and tried to keep her voice calm. "What?"

"I need to examine your injuries and treat them if I can," he replied smoothly and then held his breath as he waited for her response. Her brown eyes widened but she said nothing.

V let out the breath and swallowed before continuing. "It isn't safe for me to take you to a doctor." He paused and clenched his hands briefly. "I know the last thing you want is me touching you, but in order for you to heal properly I ask you to let me help you."

Evey knew he was right. She knew there was something wrong with her shoulder and foot but the idea of having V's hands on her filled her with alarm. "What if I said no?" she asked curiously.

V sighed and said gently, "I would respect your wish."

Evey felt herself relax a little. "All right."

He nodded. "Thank you. I'll be back in a moment." He walked down the corridor off the kitchen and came back after a few minutes with a black leather bag which he placed on the table.

"Can you sit up, here?" he said as he touched the tabletop with the tips of his fingers. She nodded and carefully used her right arm to boost herself up. She was now almost eye level with V as he stood before her. _He's so tall. Not that it matters because I wouldn't be able to see his eyes through his mask anyway._

He shifted from one foot to another. "Would you take off your robe, please?"

Her calm disappearing, Evey gulped when she realized she only had on knickers underneath her robe. She had tried to put on one her pajama tops she found in her room earlier but had given up when she couldn't get her sore arm through the tight sleeve. She thought briefly that she wished she had tried harder and tried to think of an excuse to get out of the situation she was in.

An angry voice spoke up in her mind._ What's the difference? He's seen you naked many times._

Evey looked at V briefly, who was standing his arms folded, and tried her best to shrug off her robe, but her left shoulder now felt numb and useless making it difficult to slip out of the last sleeve.

Seeing her struggle, V felt a surge of sympathy and guilt. "Do you need assistance?"

"Um, yes," she said in what she hoped was normal tone.

V took a deep breath and took a step closer to her. Trying to control his mix of emotions at unclothing her, he lightly gripped her shoulder while pulling the sleeve down. With both arms now free, he pushed the robe off her shoulders and gasped and pulled his hands away when he saw her small, bare breasts.

Evey felt both annoyed at once again being naked in front V, while he was safely hidden, and triumphant that he was obviously uncomfortable. "Is there a problem?" she asked raising an eyebrow.

"I wasn't prepared," he said slowly. V felt sickened at how thin she was after months of starving her and lust at the sight of her perfect, pale skin. He cursed himself when he felt himself getting hard and was relieved that his long jacket obscured his arousal.

_Get control. Think of mixing explosives, Chancellor Sutler, hacking the Interlink…_He felt annoyed that these images weren't dampening his response. _That isn't working?_ _Think about_ _what the guards did to you at Larkhill after lights out or your face when you look in the mirror._

_That will do. _

"V?" Evey became frightened after V had stood for almost a minute without speaking or moving. Standing motionless with his black eye holes trained on her, he looked as lifeless and cold as a mannequin. She inhaled in relief when she saw him rub the side his hand up the side of his mask, the gesture giving him life again.

"Oh, sorry! I was distracted," V said lightly. "If you will forgive my embarrassment, we can begin."

"O-kay, are you all right?" she asked, concerned despite herself.

"Yes, now let's start with your shoulder," V said, changing the subject as he bent to inspect her arm. Seeing the large lump distending the back of her shoulder, his suspicion that her shoulder was out of its socket was confirmed.

"Your shoulder is dislocated." V said softly. "I need to put it back in place but first let me check the rest of you."

He picked up her hands one by one, turning them over. Evey was absurdly touched at how gentle his gloved hands were. Falling to his knees in a fluid motion, he examined her feet, rotating her right foot back and forth carefully. She hissed slightly at the sharp pain his manipulations made in her left ankle.

Evey watched him as he rose and pulled out some bandages, cotton balls and two bottles out of the bag, one small and brown the other clear. "I believe your ankle is sprained but not broken and you have some cuts on your hands and feet."

He sighed deeply. "I hope you don't mind but I will need to remove my gloves to continue."

She nodded, feeling pity for him. "I don't mind."

V stripped off his gloves and set them on the table, revealing his red, raw-looking hands. Despite having seen them once before, she found herself staring at them and wondered what had caused the fire that disfigured him. _It must have hurt so much. _

Unaware of Evey's musings, V picked up the clear bottle and unscrewed the top and dropped a little of the liquid on a cotton ball. "This is antiseptic; I'm afraid it will sting."

He dabbed the cuts on her hands and feet, trying not to feel revulsion at the site of his mangled hands touching her unblemished skin while Evey felt surprise at the sensation of his bare skin touching hers.

Picking up the brown bottle, V pulled out the brush inside it and began applying it to the scratches like nail polish. "This is a liquid bandage; it will help the cuts heal faster. It will dissolve after a few days." Evey was shocked when he bent down and blew on the liquid, raising goose bumps on her skin.

Without looking up, he said apologetically, "To dry it more quickly."

She looked down and noticed her nipples were pebbled and hard and felt moisture gathering between her thighs. She resisted the urge to cover herself because she feared it would only draw his attention to her arousal. _Damn, what's wrong with me?_

V looked up when he heard Evey's breathing become more rapid and caught sight of her breasts. He bent down quickly so she wouldn't think he'd seen and began wrapping her ankle in an Ace bandage. His mind raced as his hands worked automatically. He had read that sometimes prisoners developed unusual attachments to their jailors and this idea calmed him. _She doesn't want "you". The situation has simply created a false sense of intimacy._

V couldn't help wondering what it would be like to really touch her, to feel her body underneath his as he moved slowly inside her. _I wonder what she would look like having an orgasm? _He considered that it would have been much simpler if the fire at Lark Hill had destroyed his manhood, because then he would not feel desire around Evey.

_This is futile. Let's put aside the fact that my body is scarred horror that I would never subject her to. Even if it were possible, it is a distraction from my purpose. I can't let these feelings interfere. And my time is much shorter than I once thought because I too had an epiphany on the roof, didn't I? I escaped prison with hate in my heart and she with love._

_She will be the one…not I. _

"V?" Evey's voice cut off his train of thought.

"Yes?"

"How long was I in there?"

"Three months, five days," he said without hesitation, as he fastened the bandage and stood up.

"Oh, God." Evey said in a low, shocked voice. She had asked the question in order to compose herself and hadn't expected his answer. She hadn't believed she had been in her cell for so long. "What's today?"

"The first day of September," he answered. "We are almost done. I need to attend to your shoulder and then you can sleep."

Evey nodded numbly. "What do you have to do?"

He considered the best way to set her shoulder. "There are two ways we might do it. The first is for you stand and I could rotate your shoulder into place from behind you."

Evey suddenly felt very tired and irritated. "I'm afraid my ankle will give out while you're yanking my shoulder around." She felt like she was a toy of V's that he had played with roughly and now feeling remorse he was fixing her.

"As am I," V said dryly. He paused. "The other way would be for you to lie on you back and I could put it into place from the front."

Her eyes widened in comprehension. "Are you saying you'd have to get on top of me?"

"Yes," he said and sighed. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" she said incredulously. "I can't believe you…sorry…that's so rich." She watched him for any outward sign of shame. When he remained motionless, she shook her head in disbelief and spat out, "Fine, can I put my robe back on?"

"You can but I'm going to need to put your arm in a sling afterward so you would have to take it off again," he said as he examined his hands with distaste.

Evey sighed deeply. "Okay, where do I go?"

"The floor would be best," he said a little huskily.

Evey slid off the table slowly, as V quickly placed her robe on the floor for her to lie upon. She sank down on to it and took some deep breaths to calm her nerves at the powerless position she was about to be put in again.

"One moment," V said quickly and walked away. He came back with a sheet in his hand, which he easily ripped into a smaller piece.

V lowered himself onto his knees beside her. "I promise I will make this as painless as possible," he said soothingly. "Are you ready?"

Seeing her nod and admiring the determined look on her face, V lifted one of his legs over her waist so that one knee was positioned on either side. Careful to keep his weight on his knees so his groin didn't touch her, he bent towards her and spoke softly, "Now, I'm going to brace your shoulder with one hand and lift your arm with the other and move it until I feel your shoulder go back into its socket."

Evey nodded again and tried not to think of Jenkins or the way V's thighs felt as they brushed her sides. Putting his weight on her shoulder, he lifted her arm at steep angle. Her upper arm was so thin his fingers completely encircled it as he moved it in a semicircular motion.

After a few minutes, sighed and said, "I think that's got it. I'm going to push it in now…there will be some pain." He tried not to think of how suggestive his words sounded as he saw her nod once again. Quickly wrenching her arm in place, he watched her bite her lip as tears of pain rolled down her face.

V felt his heart constrict at the newest pain he had caused Evey as he raised himself off of her as quickly as possible. Kneeling beside her, he asked, "Evey, are you alright?"

Evey swiped at her eyes and slowly pushed herself to a sitting position. "Yeah, I actually feel better now."

"Good. You were very brave," he said with warmth. "Unless you'd like to rest, I will put your arm in the sling now."

She shook her head quickly. "No, please put it on. I just want to sleep."

"Of course you do," V said as he picked up the sheet. Still kneeling at her side, he gently placed her arm in the makeshift sling. He took care not to touch her breasts as he leaned over her and quickly tied it in a knot on her right shoulder. "There, that will help keep your arm immobile while your tendons heal."

He rose and offered his hand to help her stand up. Evey was reminded of when he had done the same thing the first night she met him. She had trusted him then though he had frightened her a little, but so much had changed since that night in the alley. After a long moment, she took it.

V picked up the robe off the floor and draped it around her shoulders to cover her nakedness.

After silently regarding him for a few moments, she said thank you and limped off to her room.

V watched her walk away from him and after the door had shut behind her he said, "You're welcome."

(1). _Julius Caesar_, Act I. Sc.2


	2. Healing

Evey flipped listlessly through the book she was reading, _The Sun Also Rises_, which V had recommended before her incarceration. She looked at the clock by her bed and thought about going to sleep, but felt too restless to relax. She touched the cloth of the sling encasing her arm, wishing it was ready to come off, knowing when it did she would have no excuse to stay in the Gallery.

She had been released by V, five days earlier. After he had treated her wounds, she slept for eighteen hours straight. A routine had developed between them; Evey would come out her room at different times and find V in the kitchen cooking (_how does he know when I'm going to wake up?_), he would greet her and ask her how she felt, she would say "fine", she would eat and then return to her room. She felt depressed that conversations were now gone but couldn't help feeling a grudging respect for V's distant behavior. _He knows what I need and what I need now is space._

Evey turned her attention back to her book and pondered what the point of the story of miserable ex-patriots and unrequited love was. _Jake wants Brett. Brett wants Jake. But they can't have each other because he's been injured. They try to find each other in other people and when they don't they end up making their lovers just as unhappy as they are. Is there a message, V? _

Putting the book on the nightstand in frustration, she decided to leave her room and watch some TV, not caring if V was present or not. Entering the low–lit common area, she was greeted by the sight of V studying a book in his "reading chair," surrounded by his favorite paintings. His mask had turned towards her, "Do you need anything?"

"No, I just want wanted to watch the telly. I won't disturb you, will I?" Evey wondered why she felt the need to be polite to him after everything and reasoned that they needed to get along until she felt good enough to leave.

"Not at all," he said in his most courteous voice and returned his attention to his book.

Evey clicked on the TV and quickly became bored with the BTN's usual line up of crap. As she watched the idiotic _Storm Saxon_, she wished that Gordon's show was still on. Immediately, she felt sadness that she would never see Gordon again, another victim of Norsefire. _Poor Gordon. _

She reflected that Gordon had been a lot like V, intelligent, charming and hiding behind a mask. _Yeah, except Gordon didn't blow things up and kill people and…you didn't want Gordon the way you want V. _

Evey felt panic at her train of thought_. I don't want V! How could I after everything he's done to me?_

Her mind replied back calmly, _But you do. You have since you met him. You still do._

_But what he did…that would make me sick, almost as sick as he is, _a part of her mind countered shrilly.

_What he did was wrong, but it was done for the right reason. Would you go back to what you were if it meant you didn't have to suffer? You were in a cage before it was just more subtle._

_No, I wouldn't want to go back, but I don't want him, _her mind insisted with little conviction.

Evey wondered bleakly if this little mental conversation meant she was losing her mind. She glanced furtively at V's back, grateful that mind reading wasn't one of his many talents.

Evey thought back to before (everything was split into before and after V's lesson) and remembered how after she had gotten over her annoyance at being held captive, she had looked forward to seeing him every day. She remembered being in a constant state of awe during the month she had spent with him in the Gallery.

His intelligence had, at first, intimidated her, but she grew more comfortable with him because he never spoke down to her and always listened to what she had to say with complete attention. His physical presence had been no less exciting than his brilliant mind. Listening to the perfect cadence of his rich voice, watching his elegant gait and gestures (far more graceful than any mans should be) and observing the lines his densely-muscled body made the air go out of the room, made it difficult to catch her breath when he was present.

As she thought it about it now, her eyes directed at the TV, no more aware of the images on the screen than one of the statues that decorated the Gallery, she thought what made V so magnetic was his complete lack of fear. He _dared_. He had the courage to stand up for what he believed in despite the danger to his life.

All her life, she had hated the government and what it had taken from her: her family, her freedom and even her dignity. However, it had never once occurred to her to do anything about it becuase she had been afraid, afraid she might suffer the same fate as her parents. She hadn't realized how frightened she was until she had met V and his example made her realize how much she let fear control her. She had admired his bravery and the passion of his beliefs. She reflected that he was the only person she had ever known who made her believe that things could be better. He had made her feel hope. _Before he started to scare me, I thought he was beautiful… without ever seeing his face. Yes,_ _I wanted to be with him then…I think I could have loved him, if he would have let me, but that's over now. _

Trying to derail her thoughts, she flipped through the channels and stopped on the nightly news. She was shocked to see V's mask displayed in a graphic by the anchorwoman as she told her audience that codename V was believed to be responsible for an outbreak of measles at a local primary school, as well as a case of arson at a defense plant outside of London. She rolled her eyes at Sylvia, who was giving evidence to her lie with her perpetual blinking.

Evey looked over at V when she heard him chuckling. A deep, delighted sound that was as unexpected as it was unusual. "Something funny?"

V put his book into his lap turned in his seat to face her, his laughter dying away. "If I was as energetic as the BTN made me out to be, this government would have fallen years ago." He paused and said in musing voice, "I wonder if they will start blaming me for the declining stock market or…maybe they'll hold me responsible for our recent bitter weather."

She gave him a sad smile. "Gordon used to say the only bad publicity is no publicity."

V inclined his head to one side and said softly. "I am sorry about Gordon."

Evey shook her head and studied her hands. "I miss him, but he's free now. He never really was before." V kept silent but didn't look away from Evey.

Evey raised her eyes to V's mask. "What they're doing is stupid, really, because they are keeping you fresh in everyone's mind."

He rose gracefully from his seat to face her fully. "Excellent! You have it exactly. With each attempt to create fear in the people by demonizing me, the government shows how weak and desperate they have become."

V brought one of his gauntlets to chest level and closed it into a fist tight enough to make the leather creak. "They have made me a symbol; therefore, they have given me power."

Evey felt her throat constrict, a sign of an oncoming asthma attack, at the sound the glove made. She remembered how Jenkins gloves made the exact same sound when he clutched his baton before he started beating her. _Power…V, not Jenkins. Jenkins wasn't real. They were V's gloves, before V started beating me, hurting me, his gloves made that sound, he… oh God…V… he laughed when I started crying and I begged him to stop … and that just made him hit me harder…_

V saw Evey's eyes widen and her mouth tense, as she fixated on his fist. Quickly relaxing his hand, he dropped it to his side and felt a wave of nausea as he guessed Evey was recalling what he had done to her with it. _I will never be able to make things right with her. _

_Say something to her._

_The only thing I would wish to say is that I am sorry and I will never say that. Because…if I say I'm sorry I would admit that I was wrong and I know I wasn't._

_Perhaps I should retire now._

_Coward! You will stand here and take whatever she has to say to you or let her leave you (as she will be leaving the Shadow Gallery very soon). You didn't let your discomfort stop you when you were torturing her so don't let it stop you now. _

Evey felt her airways open again when she saw V holding his hands behind his back. She felt herself calm down more when she remembered that after reading Valerie's note (_and V wrote that…_) she had stopped crying and never begged again no matter how much he (V/ Jenkins) hurt her.

Evey reflected that maybe V was capable of mind reading. She hadn't thought her discomfort had been obvious, but the downward tilt of his mask and his slumped shoulders revealed his awareness of her thoughts. _I think V feels guilty. And you know what? I feel bad for him…why do I feel bad for him? _

Quietly amazed at how quickly the comfortable feeling between them had disappeared, Evey made a silent vow to leave the Shadow Gallery as soon as possible. As long as she stayed, these uncomfortable situations would keep occurring and she might begin asking V the questions that plagued her about her imprisonment. _Did you ever come close to stopping? How did it make you feel to watch me cry? Did you hear me begging you to save me when I was alone? How did you like shoving my face into the cement floor? Did you enjoy seeing me naked?_

_I can't stay. Eventually, I might start asking all those questions and there is no answer he could give that would satisfy me._

Acknowledging an uncomfortable truth, Evey knew that the most pressing reason she needed to get away was that there was a part of her that wanted to stay with V. Since the day he had first brought her to the Shadow Gallery, her every waking thought seemed to be filled with him. _I need to leave because I'll never figure out who I'm supposed to be if I don't get away from him. _

V had remained motionless, his posture suggesting he could wait all night. Evey forced her eyes to the black voids of V's mask and steeled herself to tell him that she was leaving.

What came out her mouth was, "So, how are your plans for the Fifth coming along?" Evey enjoyed watching the hair of V's black wig fly as his head jerked back in surprise

Bringing his hands together underneath his chin, he paused for a moment before answering. "Ah, my little play. Well, I have had to rewrite some scenes and I believe some of the villains will be making there exits differently than I had originally planned."

He turned away from her and appeared to be studying his paintings. Continuing in a strangely eager tone, he said, "Recent events have also required me to improvise a new final act, one that will be much more poetic and satisfying to the audience, as well as the main characters."

As Evey watched V's lean, black form pacing back and forth, she felt a thread of disquiet at his words although she couldn't put her finger on what it was. "What are you talking about?"

V turned around and regarded her for a moment before he continued excitedly. "I'm talking about a grand finale, Evey, one that won't leave a dry eye in the house!" He raised his arms above his head in a flourish, in a "V".

He lowered his arms and took a hesitant step towards her. Stopping short, he said in more measured tone, "The sets are all complete and the hero of the piece is nearly ready to take the stage. Only a brief intermission is required before the climax of this saga will be reached."

Evey's uneasiness increased at V's veiled words and her voice became sharp. "Are you going to tell me what you mean or are you going to keep speaking in riddles?"

V bowed formally at the waist and then straightened. "My apologies, I'm afraid I can't make it any clearer." His mask inclined to the side as he continued, "I really would like to tell you; however, a good director doesn't give away the plot so close to the end. It is only a short time until all will be revealed."

Evey ran her hand over the short stubble on her scalp and sighed, knowing he'd tell her nothing more. _If I keep questioning him, he'll probably start quoting Shakespeare. _Out loud, she asked, "Can you at least tell me if it will have a happy ending?"

V bowed his head. Evey reflected that when he held his head that way the devilish grin of the Guy Fawkes mask disappeared and it instead appeared to be crying. Clearing his throat, he said slowly, "A happy ending? I…I don't know if that is the correct phrase…there will be happiness for some…but it won't be like the endings of my favorite films."

V lifted his head and continued in a more steady voice. "I do believe the best endings are not without tears."

Evey wondered who would be crying and thought that it would probably be her. All her life she had been crying, for her parents, for her brother and most of all for herself. She wondered if V had some more torments planned for her before the Fifth and then quickly reproached herself for having such bitter thoughts. _That's not really fair is it? I'm grateful for what he did, even if I also hate him for it._

Evey looked at the impenetrable white mask and wondered briefly if V ever cried.

"Tears? I'm not sure I like the sound of that." Suddenly feeling tired and depressed, Evey clicked off the TV and rose off the couch. "I think I'll go to bed."

V's mask dipped in a nod. "Goodnight, Evey." He shifted on his feet. "Thank you for speaking with me."

Evey felt her heart open to V when she heard the gratefulness in his voice. _V must be very lonely indeed if a little conversation with me pleases him so much. _Nodding to him, she walked towards her room, not trusting herself to speak.

* * *

**Update: 10/16/07 I had a 'duh' moment the other day when I was talking to someone. I was asked, "Why did you use Jenkins instead of Rossiter?" For anyone who hasn't read the comic, that was the name V used when he was in guard disguise. So, then I thought, "Jeez, maybe I should have explained this before." The answer is: I hadn't read the comic when I started writing. I had only seen the movie. I made Jenkins up. After reading the comic, I was a little confused as to how I was going to deal with Rossiter, but I thought it really wasn't a problem because I think V would have had multiple personas to show Evey during her imprisonment, not just one (a sort of good cop/bad cop deal with Jenkins being very much the bad cop). ************It would add that extra touch of realism and I think V is nothing if not thorough. **


	3. Dream and Rose

The Shadow Gallery was dim and silent. Evey wandered through it, looking at the artwork on the walls with the vague hope of seeing V. In the uncertain light, Evey felt like the eyes of the subjects in the paintings were watching her. Imagining she could hear the eyes moving wetly on their sockets, she fearfully moved away and felt some calm return when she saw the cool light of the Wurlitzer jukebox.

Evey walked over and ran her hands slowly over the smooth glass top, as she perused the songs. She thought a song would lighten the eerie atmosphere of Gallery. Looking from title to title, she became bewildered by the large selection, so she closed her eyes and pushed one of the buttons at random. A sad acoustic guitar began to play, followed by a gravelly male voice. Evey began to sway slightly to the music, enjoying the slow rhythm.

_So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell,  
blue skies from pain.  
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail? A smile from a veil?  
Do you think you can tell?_ (1.)

As she listened to the lyrics, she and she wished that V was near so that he could listen to the song with her. She decided to search for him.

When she looked through all the common areas and didn't find him, she began trying doors. There were many doors in the Gallery and they were all locked. The fear she felt when she imagined the paintings watching her returned, the Gallery no longer felt safe. It felt like a tomb. As she tried each stubborn knob, she became more panicked and less coherent. Now running, she tried the last, and found the door ajar.

Sighing in relief, Evey pushed open the heavy oak door. Little was visible, except a dim, yellow light near a bed, on which V was lying, fully dressed, with his hands folded neatly on his chest.

Evey walked in, forgetting to feel guilty about invading his privacy."V?" No answer.

She padded closer, not liking the way the lamp cast shadows on V's mask. In his peaceful pose, he looked like he was lifeless, Evey thought as she walked nearer. She sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned in close to his mask to try to hear his respiration.

Evey exhaled a breath she didn't realize she was holding when she felt a puff of air escape his mask in a sigh. "Hello, Evey," He said in low voice, putting the emphasis on the last syllable of her name.

"I… was scared …I …" Evey didn't know what she would have said as she fixated her eyes on the mouth of V's mask.

He's close, close enough to kiss. She couldn't stop herself from leaning down and pressing her lips to the cold, painted metal, which was rewarded by a deep groan from behind V's mask. _As if he could feel it, as if it were his lips… but they are his lips_.

"Thank you," he breathed.

The humility in his voice made all of her reservations became tiny and unimportant as the need to get closer to him overcame her. Evey crawled on top of his still motionless body and gripped the sides of his hips with her knees. As she leaned down to kiss him again and when she did she felt something small and sharp prick her breast. She pulled back in surprise and, reaching down under her nightshirt, she felt a drop of blood on her fingertips.

Evey felt one of V's gloves reach up to touch the small wound and hissed when his finger moved away to circle her nipple. His fingers clutching the fabric of her shirt, he pulled her down firmly to his chest again, so her face was inches from his mask. He placed his leather-covered hand on the nape of her neck, making the short hairs of her scalp stand on end, and whispered, "It is a rose."

The sweet fragrance of the rose lying on his chest filled her nostrils as she buried her face into the cloth that covered his neck. As she pressed herself against him, the thorns tore new gashes into her breasts. "It hurts, she said in a muffled, watery voice,

"I know," V answered, his tone sorrowful, as he pushed his hips upward to press his arousal between her thighs. As tears of pleasure and pain seeped from under her eyelashes, Evey realized dimly that V was also pierced by the rose held between their bodies

She slowly ground the apex of her thighs on to the hard length pressing against her. Speaking into his neck, she asked softly, "Is this for me?"

"Ye-sss," he managed, sounding like he spoke between gritted teeth.

Rising up a little, she stroked the velvety, crushed petals of the rose. Fearful that the rose was intended for her, she asked timidly, "Is this for me?"

She felt both of his gloved hands cradle the sides of her face, his thumbs sweeping away the tears that were on her cheeks. Pulling his hands away, he plucked the rose off his chest and gripped it tightly in his fist. Evey heard a tiny _pit-pat_ and realized with dread that it was the sound blood drops landing on the fabric covering his chest. "No Evey, this rose is for me," he said in a deep caressing voice and the isolated drops became a steady flow.

_No, V!_ Evey clutched her breast, as tears slowly travelled down her face. They landed on her pillow, making a soft patter.

(1.) _Wish You Were Here _by Pink Floyd.

* * *

**Many thanks to Vaudeville, who offered wonderful advice for improving this chapter. Merci beaucoup! **

**I apologize for the lyrics. I don't know if V would listen to Pink Floyd, but there are 872 songs in that jukebox so maybe...**


	4. Setting the Stage

**I am so embarassed. I really made a lot of egregious mistakes in Chapter 2, but with some help I've hopefully corrected all of them. I am horrible at editing my own writing and I'm really sorry I subjected you to my errors. I shall now sit in a corner and write out five hundred times,"I will never post an unbetaed chapter, I will never..."**

**As for this chapter, it has been betaed. Thanks Guardian. However, it was emotionally exhausting to write and I'm not really sure how it turned out so feedback would be much appreciated. And there are more disturbing flashbacks. My sick little mind seems to dwell on them because I think it's amazing how some people break under horrible abuse and others become stronger.**

**Enough of my babbling. As V might say, "On with the show!" Enjoy!**

* * *

Evey started awake when she heard far away screaming. _V?_

Looking around in disorientation, she focused her eyes on the clock and saw it was 2:04 am. The screaming was intensifying and she felt like a fist was closing around her heart at the sound. She sprung up from the bed and ran out of her bedroom towards the sound, not entirely sure where V's room was and feeling a sense of déjà vu, as her panicked steps mimicked her dream.

Running down a passage off the kitchen, she stopped in front of the door the sound was coming from. The screams had stopped but now Evey could hear murmuring broken occasionally by a harsh sob. "no…don't…stop…it hurts…it hur-rrts…please…I'm not…process him…PROCESS HIM…. process her…evey"

The rest was too thick and muffled to make out. Evey put a hand over her mouth, finally understanding, and cursing herself for being so blind. She remembered too well that she made the same cries when she had been in her cell. Tears blurred her vision as she rested her forehead against the door.

Evey considered not disturbing V, for fear of embarrassing him, but as she listened to the lost sound of his weeping she found herself knocking on the door. "V…V are you awake?" Evey said quietly. When she didn't get a response, she repeated herself more loudly.

Evey heard the small sound of a bedspring creaking and rustling sheets. "Evey?" He asked in a low, puzzled voice. _He doesn't have his mask on._ She found herself fascinated that only a door separated her from the face beneath his mask.

Evey heard the bed creak again and imagined him sitting up. "Did I?…just a moment." She heard another louder protest from the bedspring and the sound of drawers opening. No light came from the crack under the door and Evey wondered if that was because he good night vision or if he didn't want to see himself.

_It's probably the latter reason. You've seen how embarrassed he gets when you've seen his hands. Most likely he hates looking at himself as much as he hates you looking at him._

The door opened and V stepped out in his usual black ensemble and Guy Fawkes mask, without a wrinkle or a hair out of place, in what couldn't have been more than a minute or two. As he stood towering before her, she was a little awed how fast he was and how great his need was to be perfectly groomed at all times.

"Hello, Evey," he said in soft, pleasant voice. "I apologize for waking you. I was having an unpleasant dream." His tone and posture suggested none of pain Evey had heard in his voice minutes before and she wondered briefly if she had imagined it.

"V, I heard you screaming," Evey said slowly as she tried to read his body language, his mask never providing any answers.

Evey detected no change in his stance. "Oh, that must have been a disturbing sound to wake up to," he said mildly. He remembered reading Delia's diary and how she had written the sound of a man screaming was one the most horrible sounds in the world.

Evey sighed at his evasiveness. "Yes, it was. You were crying, too."

V's shoulders stiffened slightly and he remained silent for a moment before answering. "I have vivid dreams and they affect me more than I'd like."

V thought that this was an astounding understatement considering the nightmare he'd been having. He had been back at Larkhill, reliving an incident that involved a cattle prod and three guards. _I must have been pretty because they did seem to pay me their midnight visits more than the others. Of course with that sadistic bastard Jenkins, it had been mostly about power. Mostly. _

_That was before I showed Jenkins a more inventive use for the cattle prod. Oh how he screamed...his screams were music to my ears. _He grinned widely behind his mask, stretching the scarred skin on his face painfully. _That was before Delia made me her golden boy…before Valerie._

The grin faded as he remembered the rest of the dream, the part where he had switched places with the guards and had been beating Evey mercilessly with a lead pipe. He had been unable to stop, depite her cries for him to cease. Finally his perspective had changed to hers, through Evey's eyes, he could see the white, leering mask of her tormentor and hear insane laughter as the pipe came down again and again.

_MONSTER! _

_I wonder what Evey would think of me if she knew my thoughts?_

_You know the answer to that; she would run away from you in horror and who could blame her?_

These thoughts skittered through V's mind in a matter of seconds. He turned his attention back to Evey, who was regarding him closely. "I'm sorry for frightening you."

Evey chewed on her lower lip and said quietly, "I was frightened _for_ you. It sounded like someone was hurting you."

V lowered his head, sick with guilt at what he'd done to her and feeling undeserving of her compassion. "You were concerned…about me?" he said, not able to look at her.

"Yes," Evey said simply, feeling pity at V's humble tone.

V's hand twitched as he thought briefly about taking her hand in his, but then he quickly decided against it. He raised his mask and said briskly, "Thank you Evey, but you needn't worry about me."

He observed her closely and said, "You're not wearing your sling."

Evey sighed at his change in subject. "Yeah, it came off while I was sleeping. I don't think I need it anymore."

"Ah," V said, his tone carefully neutral as he acknowledged the reality of her leaving. _Soon._

Not wanting to let the subject of his dream go unfinished, Evey thought about how to proceed. As she thought about what she might say next, she brought her hand to her temple.

V took in a deep breath when the collar of her nightshirt shifted, revealing red semicircles on her chest. "Evey, what have you done to yourself?" V said, enunciating each word carefully.

Confused at his question and change in tone, Evey took a wary step backward. She realized what he was talking about when she looked down at the exposed part of her breast. She thought quickly and realized that she must have been acting out her dream. Her fingernails had substituted for the thorns of the rose.

"Um that, I guess this has been a night for vivid dreams," she said, blushing a deep red, as she covered herself.

V registered her discomfort and loathed himself for causing it. Having an intuition about her dream, he said in a deep, miserable voice, "I don't mean this to sound conceited, but was it about me? Was I…hurting you?"

Shaking her head, she said calmly, "No, you weren't hurting me." _Not exactly._

Before he could restrain himself, he said, "But I was in it?"

"Yes," Evey said almost inaudibly, wondering if he would ask more.

V was curious about what kind of dream Evey could be having about him if it didn't involve him torturing her. His mind fastened on the red marks he had seen on her chest and knew it had been intense, if nothing else. _Was it sexual?_

An image of Evey, lying back in his bed with her lips half-parted flashed in his mind. It was one of the visuals from his fantasies he couldn't keep his mind from obsessing about since he had released her. He tried to shut down his train of thought down, but before he could he felt himself becoming painfully aroused. Shifting his hips as inconspicuously as possible, he forced his mind to visualize the rape he had been reliving in his dream and felt himself regain control of his body again. He considered that he was projecting his own desire on to Evey and that he was foolish to believe that she thought of him in a sexual context.

V thought with embarrassment that it was ironic that so close to his goal he should be experiencing these sensations. He didn't think of himself as a sexual being, or that he was even a man, and instead preferred thinking himself as instrument of vengeance, an idea that happened to have flesh.

* * *

The fire at Lark Hill had left him mostly unharmed below his waist, but this fact hadn't affected him much over the years. He had come across many erotic films and books in the vaults of the Ministry for Objectionable Materials and brought them to the Gallery before they could be destroyed, not for his own pleasure, but because eliminating them would take something from the world. On rare occasions, he had masturbated as he had watched one of those films, but his distaste at touching himself, and the emptiness he felt after he climaxed, caused him to cease. 

It hadn't been difficult to stop and he didn't feel like he was missing anything vital in his life because vengeance was hungry, it devoured his time, his thoughts and his desires.

Then Evey had entered his strange existence. V knew fate had brought them together and in the beginning, yes, he had wanted her, but considered it was an inconvenience and nothing more. V had also seen there was the potential in her to become more than what she was, as a teacher sees possibilities in a student, but he didn't become aware he loved her until he had imprisoned her and he hadn't really wanted her until she had begun to lose her fear, after he had delivered Valerie's letter.

The pain he had inflicted on her during her captivity had made him sick but he had found a way to distance himself from it. He had become a very good actor over the years and could throw himself into a part with absolute commitment, as he had on many occasions to accomplish his aims. When he had played one of Evey's tormentors, he called on his experiences when he was imprisoned to create a more genuine performance. Telling himself he was Jenkins, he could perform the most heinous acts on Evey and half-way trick himself that it wasn't he who was causing her pain.

Throwing himself into the part made it possible to do what was needed, but it did not stop the feelings of self-hatred or the awareness that he had fallen in love with her. He remembered the night, when he had finally admitted the truth to himself. It had been a normal day; he had interrogated Evey for hours, beat her and threw her back in her cell.

Later on, he had crept past her door to feed the caged rat he released into Evey's cell at night. After he finished, he walked past her door and paused when he heard her talking to herself between an occasional sob.

"_V, I'm so sorry I left._" V had placed his hand on the door when he heard a muffled moan from behind the door and felt something cracking in his mind, maybe it was his resolve or perhaps a piece of his sanity. "_I don't think I'll see you again to tell you that... if you were here I'd tell you… I was wrong and I'm sorry."_

V remembered reaching in his pocket for the key to the cell. All the intricate lies he told himself about being someone else when he hurt her, and that he was simply doing this to help her find her integrity, seemed cold and hollow.

"_An idea is more important than a person_," he had thought. He had always believed this, but as he stood before the door and listened to the sound of Evey weeping, he found himself questioning this principle for the first time in his life. If the ends always justified the means, then he was no better than the leaders he sought to destroy. As he stroked the key meditatively, he realized that for someone who had sought truth all his life he had been remarkably deceitful with himself. He could no longer deny the truth, and the truth was he was making the one person he loved suffer and perhaps no idea justified that.

It would have been simple to let her out. He was still wearing his guard disguise so he could easily say that they didn't believe she had any useful information on the whereabouts of the terrorist; therefore, they were going to release her.

Of course where he would take her was more problematic. There was no place really safe for her other than the Gallery, so he would either have to find a way for her to come back without her knowing she was in it the whole time or tell her the truth. Then he would have live with either telling her a despicable lie or dealing with her hatred. Each option would leave her a prisoner because of her fear of leaving the safety of his home. Either way, he would have failed her.

Despite these thoughts, V recalled bringing the key inches from the lock, his hand shaking. By concentrating his will he was able to steady his hand enough to fit the key in the lock, but before he turned it he thought of Valerie and how she had taught him about an inch. An inch that was delicate and beautiful… like a life, like a rose. _All right, Valerie. It's time._

Taking long strides out of the "detention center", V entered his room and pulled out an intricately carved box from under his bed. He opened the box with reverence and pulled out a rolled-up scrap of paper. He regarded it for a moment and then headed back to deliver it to Evey through the same crack in the wall he used to release the rat into her cell. As he placed it in the fissure, he knew once again that he was doing right.

He had come to the realization that he loved her then, but the desire to have her didn't start until he began to see the defiance in her eyes. At one point, he had come close to losing control of himself. He recalled the evening, not so long ago, he had cuffed Evey across her cheekbone making her stagger backwards and lose her balance. She had lowered her head for a long moment and had surprised him when she laughed weakly.

As she raised her head, she gave him a thin, cold smile. "Is that the best you got, Jenkins?"

He had watched her in awe. Emaciated in her soiled prison rag with a thread of blood seeping out of the corner of her mouth, he thought she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

In that moment, he saw himself pushing her against the concrete wall and taking the voice of Jenkins, "Do you want to see the best I got?" He could see himself grinding his pelvis into her bony hips and see the look of hatred and disgust in her eyes and he realized a sick part of him wanted to do it..

The vision of what he might do to Evey was so clear it felt to V like he had already raped her. Feeling a wave of nausea overcome him, he turned away from her and left the cell on wooden legs. There was a blank space in his memory and the next thing he was aware of that evening was sitting cross-legged on the floor of his bedroom. In his hand, he had held a dagger pointing at his heart. _I thought I was so clever…I'm not hurting her because I'll pretend to be someone else…I'll be that monster Jenkins…yes…and then it won't be me…I will do horrible things and I will hate them but it will be for a purpose…except now I know…I wasn't pretending at all…I am a monster. _

He looked at the shining, silver edge of the knife with concentration and bewilderment. _Is this a dagger which I see before me_... (1.)

It was beautiful and sane. _It would be so easy… just an inch…_

A small, still voice spoke in V's mind. _If you do this, Evey will die in her cell._

Dropping the dagger on the floor, V brought his knees to his chest and bowed his head till his forehead touched them. He wrapped his arms around his legs and unconsciously began to rock back and forth.

He remained that way for a long time.

When V came back to himself, he stood up and vowed to threaten Evey with a trip behind the chemical sheds in the next day or two. Whether she was ready or not, it was time to end her suffering and hopefully save his disintegrating sanity. _I just need to hold it together until the Fifth. And then...I'll be free, Evey will be free of me. Release. _

* * *

Shame and revulsion accompanied his remembrances, but it didn't stop him from wanting to touch the brave girl standing in front of him, the only person who had ever treated him with kindness._ My hands can be gentle. __If I could, I would show you how much I love you._

"I see," V said slowly, deciding not to pursue the matter of Evey's dream. "Perhaps you should return to bed. I promise tonight I shant awaken you again."

Evey heaved a deep sigh. _He's not going to make this easy. And do I really want to continue this conversation after that dream? We won't just be talking about what he was saying in his dream of that I'm sure. You know what? I really don't care. _

She shifted from one foot to another, while V watched her nervous movements with fascination.

"I don't think I can fall back asleep tonight," Evey said, her lips pursing. With some embarrassment, she noticed her shuffling feet and stilled them.

She took a deep breath and focused on V's mask. "Do you…um…want to watch a movie or… talk?"

For a moment V considered pointing out that they were already talking, but sensed that there was something else she was anxious to discuss.

"Which would you prefer?" He hoped his voice conveyed none of his pleasure or anxiety at prolonging their encounter.

Evey exhaled a breath she wasn't aware she was holding. "I guess talk, but can we do it somewhere else than in front of your door?"

"Certainly, where ever you'd like," he answered.

Evey ignored a warning voice in her mind and asked, "Can we talk in your room?"

She watched his broad shoulders tense again and wondered why he was uneasy. _It's not like I'm asking him to take off his mask. I just want to see his room, damn it!_

"Look, if it makes you uncomfortable-"

"No, its fine," V said with a sigh. "If you will wait here a moment, I'll just tidy up."

V watched her nod and then entered his room closing the door behind him. It was completely black, but he knew the layout without having to see it. He strode over to the lamp by his bed and pulled the chain, illuminating the room. His eyes fastened on the bed on his bed and saw the blanket and sheets were torn off the mattress and partly on the floor from his exertions due to his nightmare. As he began setting the bed to rights, he stopped when he noticed his pillow.

In wonder, he picked it up and examined wet indentations where his teeth had been. _I almost bit through it._

Throwing the pillow on the bed, he smoothed it out and covered it up with the comforter. Taking a quick look around the room, he decided there was nothing else he needed to hide from Evey. V made his way to the door and tried to mentally prepare himself, both for the disconcerting experience of having her in his room and what she was going to say to him.

V closed his hand around the doorknob and took a deep breath. _Let the curtain rise._

* * *

(1.) _Macbeth_ (II, i, 33)  



	5. Unmasked

V opened the door and extended his arm in invitation. "Please come in, Evey."

Evey found herself feeling edgy as she walked inside V's room. Part of the reason she had suggested they speak in his room was because she wanted to see a part of his personality, to get closer to him. She also considered that it was a strong possibility that what she might find would be disturbing. Would there be something to remind her of the imprisonment? One of the dark nondescript suits he had always worn when he was playing one of his guard characters? The baton he had used on her? The handcuffs?

She was delighted when she was ushered into a room that was both spare and elegant. The floor was bare but there was a small and exquisitely detailed oriental carpet in front of the doorway. There was a plain wood dresser that might have been made of ebony, dark and gleaming. On the wooden top sat a spindly, bronze stand with another Guy Fawkes mask resting on it.

The far wall was dominated by large shelves filled with books. The rest of walls were bare except for a couple of small sketches of profiles over the head of his bed. On the nightstand, by the bed, there was a stack of books marked at different points he had left off. The bed itself was wrought iron with black, vertical slats and covered with a midnight blue bedspread.

Evey walked over to the drawings to examine them more closely. The two profiles, one of a man and the other of a woman, were drawn in wispy strokes with a rusty colored ink. The picture of the man was showed a face that was determined and a little fierce, while the profile of the woman was in contrast, with her gentle expression and closed eyes. They were deceptively simple until she looked closer and saw the fine attention to detail to their skin and expressions.

Without turning around, Evey asked wonderingly. "V, did you draw these?" She was startled when she heard his voice close behind her.

"Dear no," he answered in an amused voice. "Leonardo would be rolling in his grave if he heard you."

She dragged her eyes away from the portraits and turned around to face him. "Da Vinci?"

V nodded. "Mhmm, I found them in the Ministry of Objectionable Materials and though the subjects aren't threatening to the purity of our great nation, the artist is."

"Why?"

"Because it is suspected he was a homosexual," he said evenly.

He paused for a moment and then continued in wistful tone. "I like them because they are beautiful though it appears they were only an afterthought to him."

Fascinated by his words and rich, musical voice, Evey found herself staring closely at his mask. She thought it was oddly beautiful the way its snowy whiteness contrasted against the black material covering his neck. _Not a millimeter of flesh exposed… it must completely cover his face. That's why I can't see his eyes. God, it must be so stifling._

She was interrupted from her musing by V's curious voice. "What is it, Evey?"

"It's nothing important; I was just thinking," she said as casually as she could.

V quelled his curiosity and motioned towards a chair to one side of his dresser, "Would you like to sit down?"

Evey regarded the high-backed chair skeptically and sat down. She was relieved when she found it wasn't as uncomfortable as it looked. Now that it came to it, Evey couldn't think of where to start.

The knowledge that V had suffered the same torments that he had subjected her to made her feel an aching pity for him and made him seem less cold and remote, more real. He hadn't always been commanding and self-assured; he had once been frightened and powerless. In a way, the man who had been in a cell was not so different than she was before she found her courage. Knowing this made some of his mystery disappear, but there was still a part of her that wanted him to acknowledge it.

Stalling for time, she made a show of looking around his room. "This is beautiful."

"Thank you," he said, walking towards her. He was absurdly pleased that she approved of the room he created out of necessity, after she had first arrived. He leaned his hip against the dresser with his hand resting lightly on the surface, watching her.

Evey was disappointed when he didn't say more because it meant she had to speak again. _There was a time when I thought he'd never stop talking. Of course, he'd decide to be quiet now._

Annoyed that she had to turn her head sideways to look at him, she pulled out her chair and turned it so it was facing him. She sat down again and studied her hands, hoping that he would speak, but as she hazarded a glance at him she became troubled by his continuing silence and was once more reflected how much he reminded her of a mannequin when he was still.

Evey suddenly felt stifled. Sitting in the chair with V standing in front of her reminded her too much of the times she had been in the same position when he was interrogating her. She stood up and made her way to the nightstand and picked up one the books V was reading titled _The Stranger _by Camus.

She remembered vaguely reading the book when she was in the Reclamation Center and recalled it was about a man who was almost completely detached from society and his emotions. The only time the man felt anything was when he was about to go to the guillotine for murder. She didn't really recall how she had gotten the book because she was fairly certain it was banned and the belongings of the "students", as the government laughingly called the inmates, were searched regularly. As she set the book down, she wondered if V identified with main character of the book. _He never seems to get upset about anything…I guess unless he's sleeping._

Her mind returned to her own troubling dream. _Roses and blood. _The sexual nature of the dream forced her to admit that she still wanted V and that disturbed her because of what he had done to her, but the rose scared her, too. _Roses mean desire, I guess, but for V roses mean something else as well. _

She recalled one evening V had appeared in full costume, complete with his hat and cloak, carrying a blood red rose. She had asked him why he was carrying the flower and he had answered as he lifted it to his mask and inhaled, "_Oh, this is a gift for an old…'friend'._

Before she could ask him more he had turned around and walked away from her. She heard him say over his shoulder, as he disappeared down a hallway, "_Time to' play out the play." _(1.) She didn't see him the rest of the evening.

_That was right about the time he killed Prothero. Did he give the rose to him that night?_

V's voice broke off her thoughts, "Evey, is there something I can do to make you more comfortable?"

Evey let out a shaky sigh, and turned around to face V, who hadn't moved from his spot by the dresser. "No, it's just so hard-"

"-to begin," V finished, inclining his head to one side. "I know."

Evey's eyes widened in surprise. "How did you know I was going to say that?"

He was silent for moment before answering. "I know you want to talk to me about something troubling you and I also know some words are difficult to speak." He paused again and said meditatively. "They change 'what may be' into 'what is' and 'ever shall be'."

Evey watched him turn his head away and trace a circle on the dresser's top with his index finger. He continued in a low voice. "I know the power of words. They can be potent and irrevocable."

"Thanks for making this easier for me," Evey said sarcastically, trying to hide her unease at his insight.

He turned back to her and joined his hands at his waist. "Sorry, I've made you more uncomfortable. My only intent was to tell you I understand how you feel."

Evey detected no reproach in his voice but felt a twinge of guilt nonetheless. "Sorry, I didn't mean to get snappish."

She watched V tip his head at her apology and she decided to begin despite her fear. "V, if I ask you some things, do you promise to answer me truthfully?"

"Yes, I promise," he said softly as he leaned back against the dresser.

Trying to ignore the weight of his unseen eyes on her, she tried to think of a moderately safe subject before she started talking about his or her imprisonment. She came up with a question which had bothered her for some time. "V how did you know I was at Gordon's?"

Evey heard V sigh shortly, perhaps impatiently. "I knew you were going to Gordon's before we paid our call on Lilliman."

Evey gasped and stared at the Guy Fawkes mask in shock, it seemed to be smirking at her. "How could you have?…you knew and you took me to the Bishop… but you acted surprised at the church…you let me go?"

Evey ran a hand over head, still expecting hair to be there after months of absence and tried to collect herself. "You let me go?" she repeated to herself.

"Yes," V answered. He had a strong impulse to go over to her and comfort her because of her distress, but knew it wouldn't be welcomed.

"How did you know I was going to leave you?" she asked in a trembling voice.

"It was your speech, Evey," he cleared his throat and continued. "It told me everything."

Evey gave a brittle laugh. "Was I that bad?"

V shook his head. "Don't be hard on yourself. It was a fine performance."

"Then what…?" Evey said not able to look at him. She was getting the irrational feeling that he _was_ capable of reading her thoughts.

"You offered to assist me in my work, which you knew included murder after I told you about Prothero," V said serenely.

His mask tilted downward and he said in lower voice. "I saw the look you gave me when I told you I killed him. The fear and revulsion in your expression was apparent."

Raising his mask, he said, "I couldn't accept that you had gotten over your moral objections to taking a life in the space of a week. You knew very well I wasn't seeking out the Bishop for spiritual guidance." He uttered a humorless chuckle.

As Evey watched him, she imagined the lips of V's grinning mask moving in mockery, _Did you really think you could fool me? I have memorized every line Shakespeare has ever written, I read six books at time because one isn't challenge enough and let me see…oh yes and I'm single-handedly bringing about a revolution. But let's leave that aside for moment, did you also believe that someone you know to be interested in theater wouldn't see through that pathetic performance?_

She felt her cheeks grow hot with a blush and she looked down at her feet. She knew, or at least thought she knew, that V would never say or think such things, but she still felt small and foolish. There was still something bothering her about what he said but she couldn't isolate it because of her still reeling mind. She finally looked up in comprehension, "But if you knew I was going to try to run out on you why did you let me go?"

He was silent for a moment before he answered. "As I said, your speech spoke volumes and I attended to it closely, not to the last part, which was a lie, but to what you said before."

"You mean what I told you about what happened to my family?" Evey asked confused.

"That and how you wished you were stronger and weren't always afraid and really…that wasn't an act at all, was it?" he asked gently.

"No, it wasn't," she said with a sigh as she rubbed her eyes.

She looked up at him as a truth dawned on her. "You decided what you were going to do to me then, didn't you? That's why you let me escape."

"Yes," he said, relieved that she finally understood. "As to knowing where you going… after our talk, I searched your room and found Gordon's address sticking out of your handbag." He extended one of his arms, palm up as if saying "there you are."

A still unanswered question swirled around her mind. Had he begun preparing to imprison her before she left or if he at least waited until she was gone? She decided it wasn't really something she needed answered so she let it go. _And I thought this would be an easy question._

Forcing her eyes to his mask, she asked quietly. "Were you angry that I lied to you?"

V shook his head shook almost imperceptibly. "No, I wasn't angry. You had discovered what I was, what I am. I couldn't blame you for wanting to escape."

V's words were said in his normal, measured tones, but Evey noticed his hands were closed into tight fists at his sides. She watched him relax his hands and clasp them at his waist and marveled at his constant restraint.

She watched him curiously. "Did you miss me?"

V considered the question and recalled how after his days of fortifying the detention center he would find himself lingering in her vacant room. It had been his room before her arrival, but it had become warm and inviting as Evey had decorated it to her liking. It had become more than a disordered library which happened to have a bed and had been transformed into a room which reflected the personality of its inhabitant.

He had reflected, as he stood looking at the mirror she had asked for, that he never realized he was lonely until she came into his world, as a child that is born blind doesn't conceive color. He had known nothing but isolation so he didn't miss companionship until he had experienced it. Evey's absence had made him feel hollow and oddly drained.

"Yes, I did." He turned his head away from her. "More than you will ever know."

Evey took in a breath at the intensity in his voice. She knew that V cared about her, but she had never considered it to be more than friendly. _The only time he's ever touched me was when I first got out of my cell and when he patched me up afterwards. It wasn't any different than the way a father would comfort a child. _Now she wondered.

She studied his enigmatic smile and wondered what went on behind it. She thought about telling him that she had missed him as well, but the words wouldn't come. It seemed wrong to say she missed him when his way of welcoming her home had been to throw her in a cell. _V missed me so much he captured me and locked me up_. _How can I say that I thought about him every day I was gone when he did that to me?_

"Well, you got me back, didn't you?" Evey said as calmly as she could manage. She watched V for a reaction and when he didn't answer or even flinch at her question she found herself growing annoyed with his continuing calm.

The silence spun out and V gave another abrupt sigh. "So, is this the question you really wanted to ask me?"

Evey felt a surge of irritation at his intuition and his calm voice and blurted the first question that came to her mind, hoping to get some kind of response. "Did you enjoy it?"

V crossed his arms. "Are you asking me if I took pleasure in torturing you?"

"Of course I am." Evey replied impatiently.

"No, I did not," he said in a low, vehement voice.

Evey crossed her arms as well. "You certainly seemed like you did. You were so…enthusiastic. You laughed when you did all those _things_…to me…that goddamned laugh. " She hated how trembly her voice sounded to her ears. _I'm stronger than this…calm down. _

V picked up the spare Guy Fawkes mask of his dresser and appeared to examine it. "I was playing a role."

"Oh, and you threw yourself into your parts, didn't you? Rossiter, Stanley and let's not forget that sick bastard Jenkins, your most convincing character," she said bitterly.

V began twirling the mask between his index and middle fingers, not looking at her. "It was necessary to give an authentic performance. Jenkins was the most effective tool in achieving my goal."

"How can you talk about it like that? Your goal?! Like I was a science project of yours! Jenkins…what he did…you did…I don't know who I'm even talking about anymore!"

Evey clenched her jaw and looked away from him. "God, do you remember when you/Jenkins were interrogating me for the billionth time about codename V, and I begged you to go to the bathroom and you said you wouldn't let me until I told you his, or should I say your, whereabouts?"

She closed her eyes and saw the scene in her mind, the dirt beneath her fingernails, the rat bites on her ankles and holding her scabbed knees together to try to stop the inevitable. She also saw Jenkins towering over her, in a black suit, more disheveled than the other two guards and always smelling faintly of whiskey. She had hated his face, not because it was ugly, but because his handsome features always wore a cruel smile. When her bladder had finally let go, she remembered him cackling, a high jagged sound that she knew would never forget.

Evey came back to the present when she heard a sound like billiard balls clicking together and realized with shock that it was the sound of her teeth grinding. She relaxed her jaw and continued, not quite looking at him. "You knew I couldn't hold it and when I started crying, because I was ashamed of what I did, you laughed like it was the best joke in the world. Do you remember?" she asked, not able to look at him.

"I remember everything," V said in a curiously flat voice.

She looked back at him and saw the mask was revolving more quickly, making the facial features appear to shift and move. "I had to be cruel to make you lose hope…I had to take away all your defenses. I had to…humiliate you, dehumanize you…violate you… so you would be able to see what you were really were when everything was stripped away," V said haltingly, his voice thicker than usual.

The mask was now twisting so quickly between his fingers they were black blurs. Evey watched this odd display with fascination and unease. His words made her feel vulnerable, they were too open and...naked. Evey began wondering how wise it was to ask him to be honest, but she decided to ask the question that had plagued her since he had released her no matter how much the answer might hurt. "'Violate', good word, yes you did do that. I even know why you did it. But here's the question…"

The mask continued to spin and V still did not look at her.

"V, are you listening to me?"

"You have my undivided attention," he said as the mask continued revolving.

Evey took a deep breath. "There was a time when you were Jenkins…you…um…got on top of me…and you put your hand…damn it …between my legs…I thought you were going to…um…" She looked over at him helplessly, hoping he would finish her thought, as he had before, but he was still studying the mask.

"-rape me," she bit out. The mask twirled even faster, the features now completely distorted. Evey waited for a response and received none. She was now furious that he was going to make her ask. "Would you have? Would you have raped me to 'achieve you goal'?"

She gasped in shock when the mask stopped twirling and he put it between palms, crushing it. The sight of the steel mask being crumpled like tinfoil in his hands made her take a step backwards.

V threw it on the dresser and turned his back to her. The only sound in the room was the rasp of his deep, uneven breathing

* * *

(1.) _King Henry IV,_ Act II, Sc. 4 

**Sorry it took me a while to update and I also apologize for leaving it where it is, but I ran out of writing juice. I'll do my best to get chapter six up as soon as I can. Tons o' thanks to both Guardian and Vaudeville for their advice, patience and hand-holding throughout this chapter. **

**Also, I've done some rewrites on the first two chapters, which I hope better explains Evey's feelings towards V before her imprisonment.**

**And...I also want to offer a huge thanks to those who reviewed last chapter. The feedback really meant a lot to me because I was anxious about the last installment. **

**One last side note and then I'll shut up, the Da Vinci sketches are real. I looked them up on The Artchive. They are called "Head of a Woman (eyes closed)" and "Head of a Warrior", if you're interested. Thanks for reading and, as always, reviews are most appreciated.**


	6. Closer

"He who fights monsters should look into it that he himself does not become a monster," V breathed, a whisper made loud by the complete silence in the room.

He touched the flattened Guy Fawkes mask with the tips of his fingers and then drew them away quickly as if he were burned. He continued in the same colorless voice, so unlike his normal confident tone, "When you gaze long into the Abyss, the Abyss also gazes into you." (1.)

Though Evey expected the long, heavy stillness to be broken, it was still a surprise to hear him speak. She realized she had seen him display more emotion in the past few minutes than she had in the whole time she had known him. Watching him destroy the spare mask had disturbed her because it was so unexpected and because it reminded her of the violence he was capable of. At the same time, she also felt a surprised relief. _He does feel, _she thought as she looked at his back

She took a few cautious steps away from the bed so she could see him in profile. As Evey watched him, she felt she had never been more intensely aware of his physical presence, the downward tilt of his head, and the small flex of the muscles in his arms as his hands that gripped the edge of the dresser and the rise and fall of his abdomen as he breathed. She had a fleeting, irrational desire to place her hands on it to feel it. _He isn't cut off from his emotions like the character in "The Stranger" and he isn't a robot or even a mannequin, like I think of him sometimes. He is a man. _

She took another step towards him. "That sounds familiar. What is it?" she asked in a soft voice.

"It's Nietzsche," V answered as he stared at the ruins of his mask. _I never fully grasped the meaning of that phrase until what I did to you. _

He felt a sick feeling of self-loathing at his outburst. Passion was an instrument to be both nurtured and utilized and V had found it to be useful in keeping to his purpose, but it was above all to always be controlled. A man in his position couldn't let his emotions rule him; the consequences of impulsiveness were severe. He was becoming aware that in the past few months, and especially the past few weeks, the tight leash he kept on his emotions had begun to slip and he hated feeling helpless against them. He hated feeling helpless in any fashion; he had spent the last twenty years of his life trying to erase the feeling of vulnerability he had experienced at Larkhill.

V stopped mentally berating himself when he realized that Evey deserved more than a quote from a mad German as an answer to her question. Straightening his back, he turned to face her and found himself distracted as he looked at her calm brown eyes. He thought that they seemed more prominent and arresting now that she no longer had any hair. There was nothing to detract from their beauty. _That's too simple. They seem brighter because she has changed and because I have fallen in love with her._ He wished briefly that he could see them without the fine black mesh that covered his eyes and made the world seem slightly grey and indistinct.

He took a steadying breath and squared his shoulders. "I apologize for my emotional display. Your question is a valid one and I shouldn't have reacted that way."

"Um, it's okay. I didn't expect it because I've never known you to get upset like that. I mean…I guess, except when I heard you having your nightmare tonight. " She absently rubbed the abrasions on her chest, which she had inflicted on herself during her own dream. It seemed like it happened in another lifetime, but had only occurred a few hours before.

V watched her fretful gesture with interest and felt his stomach lurch abruptly at her reference to his dream. He decided that he would much rather answer her troubling question to divert her from that topic. "Yes…well…thank you for your graciousness. The answer to your question is 'no'. I couldn't have raped you." He hated the way the word tasted in his mouth.

_But I thought about it and it was sick and unforgivable. I was stricken by your bravery and your beauty…stricken dumb…like an animal and I almost acted like an animal. I wanted to kill myself for what I thought, Evey, and I very nearly did._

Evey noticed his hands pick up a brief tremor that he quickly hid by putting them behind his back. "Alright," she said slowly.

Shifting a little, V thought about monsters, the abyss, and truth. He decided his answer was true, but only partly. He told her he would be honest, and lies of omission were still lies. "However…when one plays a part long enough, the line between where a person ends and where the character begins becomes blurred. The person…"

He realized that referring to himself in the third person was cowardly and corrected himself. "… I began to wonder how much I was acting when I played Jenkins and if I was turning into him or perhaps if he was bringing out something…vile in me."

A pause. "Whatever the case, I was fr-…disturbed by what I was becoming."

He swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "Does this answer satisfy?" He offered a silent prayer, to whom or what he did not know, that further explanation was not required. _Vi Veri Veniversum Vivus Vici is a hard motto to live by._

Evey tried to wrap her mind around what he was telling her was telling her. _Satisfy?_

She realized that in some odd way it did. _Because if he did those things with no emotion like a machine, like I was nothing more than a science project to him…wouldn't that make him sort of insane? But if it was personal to him… he may have thought about forcing himself on me, but thinking and doing are two very different things, aren't they? I think it hurt him to do what he did to me… something happened to him… I know that from what I heard him say in his sleep tonight. _

"I think I understand," she said thoughtfully. _The Abyss looks into you…_ A memory of lying in the fetal position on the rough concrete after Jenkins had left after in of his visits rose to her mind like a black balloon. She recalled the shame and bitter pleasure she felt as she reached between her legs and drove her fingers deep inside herself and came with a harsh sob, seeing a face she couldn't recall as hard as she tried.

She covered her face with her hands, feeling embarrassment and a thin thread of fear at her recollection. V watched her reaction and believed it was because of what he had revealed. As he looked at her hiding her face, he felt the unusual sensation of tears stinging his eyes. He tried to think of something to say that would make his admission less terrible and realized nothing would, so he remained silent. He tried to control his tears certainly not because she would be able to see them, but because the mask that covered his face made it impossible to wipe them away.

"Thanks for being honest with me," Evey said, finally uncovering her face.

Bowing his head, he said quietly, "You really needn't thank me. You deserve the truth; I just wish it was less shameful."

Evey thought she felt something release in her chest and realized that she might be able to forgive him. _He went through this himself and he came out stronger. They tried to break him and they couldn't. He tried to do the same to me and he couldn't. _She felt a fierce sense of pride at that fact and thought about how V felt when he tortured her. _What did it cost him to be the abuser when he was abused, to become what he hates? I think…well, I thought all this time that imprisoning me and torturing was something he did _to_ me but now I think he did it _for_ me._

She looked at him closely and attended once again to his beauty (_it is beauty, damn it…'handsome' is somehow indecisive_), the solid shoulders, broad chest, and the sleek muscles of his thighs and wished she could touch him, touch the body that held his heart. Without being aware of it, she began scratching her chest again.

Not missing the second incidence of this gesture, V had the irrational urge to place his lips, his real lips, upon the reddened skin on her chest and quickly squelched it before it could go further. _She is so alive. Every emotion is on display for the world to see. She dares to show her soul and risks it being trampled on without a thought to herself; therefore, she is far braver than I am. She makes me feel alive. I wish I was worthy to touch her. _

He thought about if the impossible happened and he could have the exquisite sensation of running his fingertips across her flesh, he would be a great disappointment to her because of his nervousness. _My hands would probably shake too badly. _This helped him control himself. He said in a cool voice, "Evey, do those need treated?"

Evey's eyebrows drew together in confusion as she wondered what he was talking about. After a second, she realized she was worrying her irritated skin, so that now instead of a few red semicircles from where her fingernails had dug in during her dream, there was now a wider area of criss-crossing scratches. "Oh, no. I don't think the skin is broken," she said covering her chest as well as the v-necked nightshirt would allow.

V watched Evey's cheeks flush a bright crimson and thought he could even see a bright sheen of perspiration rise on her brow and was once again curious by her dream. He had a brief debate with himself about whether he should or shouldn't inquire what it had been about. One side argued that dreams were private and he no right to ask, while the other side rationalized that she was subconsciously drawing attention to her dream by revisiting her wounds and perhaps wanted to speak about it. Curiosity tipped the scales, "Evey, I have a question and if you wish you needn't answer."

"O-kay, I guess you deserve to ask a question," she said, chagrined. She felt like she would have to respond honestly because V was being so open with her, but she felt a little ashamed because he was giving her the option of remaining silent. He never pushed, whereas she had essentially forced him to answer her own questions. She waited with interest and anxiety as she watched him lace his fingers together at his waist.

"Would you tell me what your dream was about?" his voice was soft and caressing.

She touched her face with her palm and was embarrassed when she felt the heat of her flushed skin. She thought of the way he touched her in her dream and wondered what it said about her. _Despite everything he's done to me, or maybe because of what he's done… _She didn't allow herself to examine this last thought too closely. _I want him…_ _and I still want him. I can't stop…wanting_.

"Um, well…heh-" Evey's eyes touched him briefly. She watched him lean back against the dresser and cross his legs lazily as he waited. She looked away so she could think more clearly and wondered what he would think if she told him. Would he think it strange? Would he be repulsed? Would he be disinterested? _It is so hard to know what he thinks, isn't it? He's so safe behind his mask and I feel as exposed and defenseless as an insect under a microscope when I'm with him. _

He watched her intently as her eyes darted back and forth and she bit her full lower lip. His mind ticked off possibilities of what she was thinking. "As I said, you don't have to answer," he said calmly as he could, feeling pity at seeing her struggling with herself.

"No, I…" She took some deep breaths. _In through the mouth, out through the nose. Words are powerful and they change things, right again V, but I can speak them if I'm honest and I'm brave._

"I'll answer; you've been open with me." She took a step closer to him and laid her hands on the back of the chair had first offered her when she came into his room. "I was here in the Gallery, but it felt different… empty… and I was scared because though I knew I was alone, I felt like I was being watched. Everything had eyes and the eyes were cruel."

She watched V take a step closer to her with his head bowed and his hands tented over the mouth of his mask in a strange gesture of meditation. Though she was curious about what he was thinking, she continued, "I went to the jukebox because it seemed bright and safe; I love it so."

"Hm, I'm pleased that you do," he said softly as he removed his hands from his mask and took another step towards her so that only the chair separated them.

"I picked a song and it was strange. It seemed to be about you somehow," she thought hard trying to remember the words though they were fading and becoming hazy. "The man sang about how it was hard to tell heaven from hell and…oh and how difficult it was to see a smile through a veil."

She watched his head tilt to the side so fast she was reminded of the way a marionette's head moved when the puppeteer twitched the string too hard. Controlling the nervous and inappropriate giggles that tried to escape her lips at the image, she said weakly. "That's not it exactly, but it's close."

Evey watched V straighten his neck. "Sounds like Pink Floyd…interesting. " 'A smile through a veil'…I…am a little stunned that you give much thought to my condition," he said in a stilted voice, as he raised his hand and made a circular motion over his mask.

"How could I not?" She shook her head in wonder. "It's so hard to talk to you because I only hear your words. There's no expression, no…" She looked at her hands and searched for a word.

"Context?" V offered softly.

"Yeah," she said, nodding. "There's only Guy Fawkes." She waited to see if he would say anything but what he thought about her statement remained unvoiced.

"Is that song in your jukebox?" she asked giving up waiting on a response.

"No, I like "Wish You Were Here", but it isn't part of my collection. It only contains songs that I can imagine dancing to," he said.

Evey felt some surprise at this statement and the longing she heard in his tone. She had never imagined V thought about such mundane things like dancing. Every move he made and each word he uttered seemed to have a higher purpose or a deeper meaning, was just a bit larger and grander than everyday life should allow. She felt sadness that his isolation didn't allow the simple pleasure of dancing and wondered how his body would move if given the opportunity to dance. _With power and grace, just like every other movement he makes. _

_I wonder what kind of lover V would be? _

_Don't think about this, _she thought with some alarm, but she looked at him in speculation and growing desire. _What would his skin would feel like against mine (would it be roughened like his hands?). Would he hesitate? Would he whisper in my ear or would he be silent? Would he would take off his mask before he thrust- _

V watched Evey chewing her bottom lip and looking at him with concentration, confused as her eyes darted from his face and roamed over his torso. Feeling his groin tightening in response to her gaze, he was glad that the chair that stood between them shielded his erection from her view. As he watched her biting her lip, he found it exciting that Evey might want him, something he had fantasized about, but he found it unbelievable. _I must be projecting my own unforgivable lust on her again. I'm just reading her wrong… _

_No, I'm not, _he acknowledged the truth of what he saw, the dilated pupils, her shallow breathing and her nipples limned against the thin cotton of her night-shirt. He never thought anyone would ever look at him as if he was desirable, but he was sure of what he was seeing. He thought furiously to try to come up with an explanation to try to dampen his physical response. _Stockholm syndrome… that has to be the cause. There has been research that some victims of torture can form a bizarre attraction to their tormentors._

He recalled her arousal to his touch, when he treated the injuries he inflicted upon her, and became more confident of his conclusion. _There can be no other reason for this; I'm a freakish abomination and I have been monstrous to her. It would be wrong for me to take advantage of this situation, she is confused and that would make it more of a violation than anything I did to her in her cell. _

V felt that he had never been so appreciative of the protection his mask offered. Of course it hid his burnt features, but at that moment he was more thankful that it hid the desire in his strange eyes. He directed them to a point past her shoulder in an effort to control his traitorous thoughts of sliding his hands over her breasts.

"Was that all you dreamed?" he asked in what sounded like a tinny, hollow voice to himself, as he tried to pretend that he didn't notice her condition.

V watched Evey turn her head and press her lips together. "No, I-" She took a deep breath and clutched the back of the chair hard enough to make her knuckles white.

She forced her eyes to his mask and continued, "-went to find you because I wanted you to listen to the song with me, but all the doors were locked. I got scared-" she trailed off, looking away as she tried to put her thoughts into words.

"-because it seemed like I would never find you, but the last door I tried opened. I was relieved…" She turned her eyes back to his mask in a futile gesture to see how he was reacting to what she was telling him and the blank, smiling gaze made her feel more vulnerable and exposed than she had ever felt with him.

Continuing through numb lips, she pushed on. "I was relieved because I'd found you but then I was frightened again because…"

"Why were you frightened?" Evey felt the almost palpable warmth and weight in his voice, like he had touched her skin with one of his gloves.

Evey cleared her throat. "Because you lying down on a bed and you weren't moving…and I thought -_you were dead-_there was something wrong with you so I got on the bed and leaned down to try to hear your breath through your mask and then you spoke, you said my name. I…um…" He watched her hands clenching and unclenching on the chair and was confused and increasingly interested at what was causing her distress.

"Evey, you don't have to continue if it's upsetting you," he said soothingly, trying to ignore the part of his mind that was longing to hear more.

"No, I want to finish," she said softly as she passed a trembling hand over her eyes.

Silencing a cautioning voice in his mind, he stepped to the side of the chair so he was now inches away from her shoulder. He had a lengthy internal debate during which his hand twitched restlessly at his side. Finally deciding, he laid his hand lightly on her shoulder noting the tension he felt in her muscles.

He kept his hand perfectly still and waited to see if she would shrug it off, but he was surprised when he instead heard her sigh and felt her muscles relax under his palm. _It's merely a gesture of comfort, nothing more, _he insisted to himself. He waited for her to continue and found himself transfixed by the visible pulse of a vein in her throat. He felt the urge to strip off his glove and run his finger over it.

The lightly held weight of his glove on her shoulder made her body flush, but also had a strange calming effect. She turned to face him and he inclined his face downwards to her level. She was close enough to feel the light touch of his breath bathing her face in warmth, as it escaped through the painted smile of his mask. Closing her eyes, she inhaled, his respiration negating her dream. She opened her eyes and looked into the black emptiness of his and said in a barely audible voice, "I kissed you."

V had been so focused on watching her breathe and the feel of her delicate collarbone through his glove that he almost didn't hear her. His eyes locked on hers and the slightly unfocused state of her eyes convinced his increasingly perplexed mind that he had heard correctly. _God…_

Evey felt his hand tighten convulsively and waited anxiously to see if he would pull away.

He finally said slowly, "A kiss? Well, dreams can be strange and they don't necessarily signify anything. If that's the worst image your subconscious produced, then you needn't be ashamed. I can understand your distress though, touching me in that fashion, even if it wasn't real, must be disturbing to you." _Stockholm syndrome…_

Evey felt like one his fists was closing around her heart when she heard the matter of fact tone he delivered this statement of self-loathing. _He can't conceive that anyone would want to touch him. _She felt the inevitable and disappointing loss of his hand as it slipped from her shoulder.

She watched him bow his head, appearing to be examining his hands. "I wasn't disturbed. It felt…right," she watched him clutch his hands into tight fists together, but he still didn't raise his mask.

"Right?" he said in perplexed voice.

"And there was more," she said clearly.

V raised his mask so that he once again looking down at her and stilled his hands. "Perhaps it's unwise for you to go on," he said in clipped tones.

"Are you worried about upsetting me or yourself?" she asked, her voice mimicking his sharpness.

"Touché." He tilted his head briefly. "Very well, Evey, I did ask. It isn't your fault if your answer isn't what I expected," he voice becoming business-like though he felt anxious at the turn of the conversation. _I could finish this exchange right now, push her out of this room, shut my door on her and end this madness. However, if I do that it would mean that I am unable to control myself. I can't let her see that because then I will have exposed myself as surely as if had taken off my mask. _A small part of him also acknowledged that he was still curious to know.

"Please continue," he said extending his arm, palm up, in invitation.

She ignored him for the time being. "It really isn't what you thought I'd say, is it?" she watched him closely, considering, "Do you ever think about it?'

_I think many things Evey, when it comes to you._ _Where would you like to begin? _It took all of his enormous will not to take a step back from her to put some safe distance between them.

"I think you should probably be more specific, so there will be no unfortunate misunderstandings." He was becoming slightly annoyed that he seemed to have lost control of the situation.

Evey let out an explosive sigh at his subtle evasion and wondered if was asking her to be more explicit because he thought she would rather drop the question rather than be blunt. Raising her chin, she said quietly, "Do you want me?"

She realized he had stopped breathing when she could no longer feel the tickle of his breath on her face and she became worried when the seconds ticked by and she didn't feel its return. Uttering a sigh, she wondered how brave she was. After a moment, she placed her palm on his chest and felt the steady beat of his heart.

She watched his hands trembling and the quick shake of his head, which made the locks of his wig fly. "Want? It doesn't matter what _I_ want."

Evey stroked his chest, relishing the feel of the hard muscle beneath her hand. _Not the showy, useless muscles belonging to even more useless men at a gym but the kind that is built by a lifetime of hard work and self-discipline. _She heard him utter a masculine groan of pleasure and felt a muscle twitch beneath her palm. She was half-aware that there was dull ache building between her thighs. "That's not an answer," she said in a low voice.

"No, I suppose not," he said roughly, catching her wrist to stop her hand's movements. Evey felt the latent strength in his grip and became nervous when he tightened his hold for a moment, but he loosened it and instead removed her hand from his chest and placed it at her side.

V sighed heavily and tried to harden his heart against the disappointment showing in her down-turned mouth and control his increasingly tenuous hold on rational thought. He spoke slowly as if trying to soothe someone who is mentally imbalanced, "Evey, I think your very confused right now. You're confused about what you has happened to you, what you want and what I am-"

"And what are you?" Her eyebrows drew downward and she took a step backward. "Do you even know?" she asked her voice rising.

A pause and then he squared his shoulders and drew himself up to his full height. "And I believe you are also confused about who _you_ are," he continued in a maddeningly calm voice. "It would be wrong for you to act rashly in these circumstances. There have many documented cases of abuse victims becoming emotionally attached and even-"

He cleared his throat, "-sexually attracted to their victimizers and I believe this may explain your feelings. It is called Stockholm Syndrome-"

"Wait…do I have this right?" Evey said crossing her arms defensively. "You're quoting to me out of a psychology manual so you don't have to answer me? You should stick to Shakespeare. I liked it much better." She hated the words coming out her mouth but couldn't seem to stop herself. She felt like he was talking to her like she was an especially slow-witted student.

"Evey, have you forgotten that it's been only five, no, six days since-" he stopped himself from mentioning her awakening on the roof because it was something that he sensed should never be discussed for fear of denigrating the experience, like a painting shouldn't be exposed to too much light. "-since you walked out of your cell?"

Evey pressed her lips together. "Oh, I remember, none better."

V clutched his hands together hard making the leather of his gloves rasp. "Evey…what happened these past few months, what I did to you…it was…" He turned his head to the side and said huskily, "…intimate. I saw you, everything you are, the things that no one else will ever see in you, the things you would never willingly show anyone. We were as close as anyone ever will be. I saw…every…inch…of you."

He took a deep breath and continued, not sure if he wanted to convince her or not. "I think this is why you look to create another intimacy with me and it might seem right now, but I believe you would come to regret it and hate me for participating in it. Worse, I believe you would hate yourself for it. I deserve your hate, but I can't take part in something that would make your hate yourself. It would be contemptible for me to desire you after what has occurred, and monstrous for me to wish to act on that desire."

He raised his chin. "I can't play the lover for you.

Evey grimaced. "This isn't a movie and it isn't a play either!"

"I am aware of that," he said quietly.

Evey looked at him for a long moment, breathing deeply. "Then stop using the theatrical metaphor like this is just a little production of yours."

He flinched slightly. "As you wish, Evey."

Evey looked at him, her head cocked in an unconscious imitation of his familiar gesture. "You know what I think the problem is?"

"I feel sure you are about to tell me," his voice was silky but Evey thought she detected the beginnings of anger.

She took a step closer to him and noticed how rapidly his chest was rising and falling and his clenched fists held at his sides. "Well, you never answered my question, did you?"

"Which one would you like me to answer?" V asked in a thick voice, distracted by a bead of sweat tracing its way over the reddened part of her chest. He imagined it moving slowly down the hollow between her breasts once it passed the collar of her shirt. He visualized throwing the room into darkness, pulling off his mask and running his tongue through the depression, tasting the salt of her sweat. He was becoming annoyed with his continuing and increasingly uncomfortable state of arousal, which he prayed she didn't notice.

Evey took another step towards him, seeing and suddenly hating the perfect symmetry of his mask and body and his cheapening of her feelings. "You never answered who 'you' are. I thought you were a man, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe you're just a machine made of metal and gears, or maybe you're so in love with being safe and superior behind your mask that you can't let it slip for one moment because behind it you feel like some third-rate god, always right and passing out your judgments and punishments, or maybe you're-"

She was close enough now so he thought he could smell the musky scent of her arousal. "-merely an idea, Evey? Something that cannot feel and want?" he said softly, almost gently. _That is what I should be, all I have ever wanted to be, but I am failing miserably. I'm so weak._

"What? Do you really believe that?" she asked in an irritable voice as she started dragging her nails across her chest again. She shook her head in resignation and closed her eyes.

Lowering her face, and said in softer voice, "You are the only thing I think about, ever since the day I first met you. You make me-" she clenched her jaw briefly. "-feel." Because of her down-tilted face, she didn't see him recoil in surprise.

"You know what? I'm done humiliating myself," she said raising her head, laughing bitterly. "That's all I ever seem to do in front of you. I get the message."

At the look of sadness and longing on her face, V felt something hurting in his chest. In his agitation, his mind dredged up an unlikely quote from its vast stores. _Now I know I've got a heart, because it's breaking._ (2.) He wondered with detached curiosity if he was becoming even more insane, recalling the words of the Tin Man.

V watched her turning to walk out of his room, he felt his hold on his control snap and decisively silenced his arguments and his doubts. He dimly realized that though he could never have her heart, he could possess her for a short time and try to give her what she wanted, something he would never give to anyone else. _I can lay my hands upon her, and through my touch, I can show her I love her. And the look in her eyes when I make her orgasm…I can pretend that it is love. It's as close as I'll ever get to it with her and I will count myself blessed. And time is short, isn't it? _

Closing the short distance between them, he caught her arm and turned her around to face him. "I never had a chance to answer your question as to what I am."

He clutched her arm tightly enough to make her gasp, and he could feel himself swelling further. "Maybe I'm not an idea after all and am something else entirely, a monster perhaps? That must be what I am because it will answer your other question: I do want you," he said in a deep, desperate voice.

Panting, Evey whispered, "V, I-" She never got out what she was going to say because she was shocked into silence when V slid his hands down her arms and he bent down, pressing the cool metal of his mask on her chest, soothing her hot, irritated flesh. She moaned at the unexpected sensation, and felt a rush of wetness gathering between her thighs. Tentatively, she touched the top of his head and was surprised at how silky the strands of his wig felt under her fingertips.

"Ask me and I will, Evey." V sighed and Evey felt a long, slow exhalation of warm breath on her chest. "I will give you what you want."

* * *

(1.) Friedrich Nietszsche 

(2.) _The Wizard of Oz_

**Um, sorry for the wait. I had hoped to deal with a lot more in this chapter than I have, but it will just have to wait until the next installment. I'm pooped, but I will do my best to post as soon as I can. **

**It was fun researching Stockholm Syndrome, which does exist. Good old Wikipedia. **

**Many thanks to Guardian for helping me make this mess into something readable and hopefully less sucky. She's great, but even she can't work miracles.**

**The reviews for last chapter were... wonderful. I can't tell you how much they meant to me or thank you all enough for them. As for this chapter, I have been messing with it so much I've lost any sort of objectivity. In fact, I'm pretty sure my brain was leaking out of my ears at some point. So, if you would like to review I surely would be thankful. Why am I being so coy? I'd absolutely love it if you reviewed :)**


	7. Atonement Part 1

V stood with his mask against Evey's chest and listened to the sound of her rapid heartbeat. He inhaled the clean, warm scent of her skin and waited. His odd fatalism helped give him a measure of control over his desire to place his hands upon her breasts, which were tantalizingly close to his hands.

He waited for the _word_, the word left him safe and unharmed or the word that would force him to open up his being to hurt, the word that unmasked him. One word from her would was all that was necessary to change 'what could be' into 'what is'. V feared the power of her words, and as he pressed his mask more firmly into her breast, he wondered if this strange caress would be the last he would be allowed to have with the woman he loved. V waited for what 'would be'.

Evey's hands shook a little as she smoothed the strands of V's false hair. She felt him push the metal mask into her chest as if he couldn't get close enough to her and realized it was still possible to step away. There was a part of her that wanted to, because she feared what she felt for the man, who stood pressed to her heart, something large and disorienting in its strength.

Evey could admit that intimacy frightened her. She had told herself that it was easier to keep the tenor of a relationship light and casual with men in her life because she had no intentions of settling down. And in her deeper musings, she realized occasionally she used men for her own purposes. She could admit now, though it shamed her, that when she had been asked out by Gordon she had looked at it as a way to climb out from beneath Patricia's thumb more than as a possible romantic relationship. All around, it was easier to keep a safe distance because letting someone get close meant the risk of pain and loss. Losing her parents had taught her that.

However, V didn't allow distance or detachment. Despite never touching her sexually, when he was himself and not playing Jenkins, she considered their relationship the most intimate she had ever had in her life. How would she be able to leave him, if she allowed him deeper inside? There were two choices laid before her, she thought uncomfortably. She could run, as she always did, and live with grey regret or risk him tearing her heart open. If she had learned one thing from V, the deepest truths were bought only with great pain.

"Yes," she whispered, the only answer she was capable of and the only one that really mattered. Then pressing her lips on the top of his head for moment, she slid her hands down the side of his head and felt the tops of his ears. She heard him heave a sigh. Whether it was of sadness or gratitude, she wasn't sure.

V moved his hands from her arms and caught her hands before they could go further. Removing his face from her chest, he straightened his back and bowed his head, appearing to examine her hands. He turned them over and ran his thumbs in slow circles over the healing cuts on her knuckles. Lifting his face to hers, he tilted it and stood motionless.

Evey watched him closely and waited, wondering if his stillness meant he was having second thoughts. She became uneasy as the seconds ticked by as he remained statue-like, his thumbs sweeping over her skin. She knew that he would always make her nervous when he looked at her silently because there was only an unknown, hidden behind a facsimile of a face and a crude representation of eyes. _It's more than that. It's scary to be the object of his concentration because when he obsesses…unpleasant things can happen. _

Looking at the eyes of his mask, Evey tried with limited success to rationalize. _But he would never hurt me…well not anymore._

Just as she was about to speak to get him to move, speak…something, V bent his head inches from her face, so that the nose of his mask almost touched hers and his black eyes filled her vision.

"Evey, do you trust me?" he asked softly.

Evey started a little, feeling not for the first time, like he had been eavesdropping on her mental conversation. Looking into the emptiness of his eyes, she tried to see movement or animation and was once again disappointed to see only darkness despite being close enough to place her lips on his painted grin, if she wanted. She took a deep breath and felt his thumbs begin their tracery of her hands again. Feeling the warm leather and the soft movement, she was reminded of how he touched her when he had first released her. When she had fallen to the ground and held her and when he had set her dislocated shoulder, he had touched her with the same tenderness.

"Yes," she said simply.

"Thank you," he said. The humility and gratitude in his low voice was unmistakable.

V released her hands and a moment later felt them lightly touching the sides of her waist. She felt his hands grip her more firmly and she was lifted, her feet leaving the floor. Stiffening a little in surprise and she relaxed, placing her hands on his shoulders for balance. She could feel the muscles of his shoulders flex as he carried her and hear the sound of his light breathing. _Is he taking me to the bed? Thank God_, she thought with relief and growing excitement. She closed her eyes and buried her face in the smooth material that covered his neck and inhaled the fragrance of some lightly-scented soap, overwhelmed at being so close enough to feel the warmth of his body.

Instead of being placed on the soft covers of the bed, her breath caught when she felt her legs come in contact with hard wood and was set down on the ebony dresser. She felt confusion when he removed his hands from her waist. He casually flicked away the mask he had destroyed earlier and then bent down to open a drawer below her feet. Evey saw him pull out a black silk shirt with wide sleeves, much like the one she saw him wearing when she caught him fencing with his fat metal friend months ago.

She watched him pull the shirt wide at the cuffs, as if testing its strength. He then slid it through his hands, pulling one the sleeves to its maximum length. She felt sweat slicking her face as she watched the muscles in his arms tense and he pulled the cloth until it tore apart with a thick purring rip. _Christ, it's nearly impossible to tear silk and he shredded it like it was paper._

As she watched him twisting the length of fabric, her breathing became rapid as she imagined him binding her wrists together with his shining makeshift rope. A thin thread of fear accompanied the thought of the silk going around her wrists, but a deeper part of her mind found herself excited by the idea and she wondered in distress what that said about her.

She saw a minute tremble unsteady his hands and she felt her breath catch as she watched the tremor increase, causing him to drop the rope on the top of the dresser. "V, are you alright?"

_Black and shining_, V registered her question, but he instead concentrated on the dull sheen of the silk. _Twisted, as it is, it almost looks like the scales of a reptile._ _Snake-like… yes …but what does that remind me of? _

_A viper nursing at a breast, _an excited voice in V's head supplied. V realized with alarm that he could hear the high alien voice as if it were speaking into his ear; he worried that the voices he lived with were now audible.

_Ah, now the true insanity? _He set his terror of his increasing mental aberrations aside for the moment because he sensed the voice was about to tell him something important.

_Whose breast? _V heard the voice emit a high giggle and instead of an answer he saw an image of brown gums and crooked yellowing teeth. _Sutler, of course, _V realized with his own growing excitement. He now saw a doughy face and two eyes so dark and empty they seemed to absorb light. _Like a snake_…_Creedy. It will be so simple to plant a seed of doubt in Creedy's paranoid little head. What will grow, I wonder?_

_A rose, of course! _The voice finally answered, now laughing hysterically.

_Why stop with one rose? _V answered and almost felt like joining in the laughter as his plans for the Fifth solidified from a vague idea into something more substantial. _Sutler… me…Creedy. Yes, indeedy! Soon it will be time to do a little gardening. Roses for everyone, Valerie, a great abundance of roses! _(1.)

His eyes shifted to Evey, who was wringing her hands together in worry. _I dedicate my rose to you, dearest Eve. My final gift to you. _He watched his trembling hands begin to quake with more force and was annoyed at the inconvenient timing of this physical manifestation of his mental peculiarities.

Evey watched V standing with his head cocked to one side for untold minutes, seeming to listen to a voice only he could hear. As she considered that she might be putting herself into the hands of a madman and thought again of retreating to her room, she watched a change come over him. The tremor in his hands increased until they were shaking violently. Staring at him as he placed his unsteady hands over his mask; she felt anxiety, now more worried about him than herself.

"V, what the hell?!" she asked him, in a small, shocked voice.

Evey's panicky, but rational voice made V once again consider his increasingly unusual thoughts and new physical tics. He was used to mental conversations but the solidity of the voices was new. '_Really' hearing voices? It's worrisome. _

V thought of the chemicals Delia had injected into him at Larkhill, the ones that had mutated and eventually killed every prisoner except himself. In his case, Batch 5 left him physically and mentally enhanced, but had the unfortunate side effect of leaving him psychotic. He had fooled Delia into believing so back then, but now he wondered if he was starting to suffer some physical side effects and if his odd, racing thoughts signaled the beginnings of true madness.

_Or perhaps I'm merely uneasy._ "Things fall apart; the center cannot hold;" V said in a robotic voice, removing his still shaking hands from his face. (2.)

He laughed jaggedly, and after a moment, he heaved a deep sigh. _No, I won't lie to myself. This is more than just a case of nerves at touching her. However, I won't allow this to control me. My will is more powerful._

V glanced at Evey perched on the dresser, watching him closely, her forehead wrinkled in concern._ I must be strong so I can give you another gift, Evey._

Evey watched him in wonder as he held his hands out before him, palms down, appearing to concentrate on them. By slow degrees, the shaking lessened until they were completely steady. V held them still for a long moment, perhaps waiting to see if the shaking would reappear. When it didn't, he splayed his fingers wide and then rolled them into tight fists. He slowly relaxed his hands and exhaled slowly.

He turned his mask toward her and said briskly, "There, now there shouldn't be re-occurrence of that display."

Evey marveled at his control, but was disturbed by his words and the quick turn in his mood. "V, what's wrong?"

V gave another characteristic head tilt, but remained silent.

She looked downward, watching him out of the corner of her eye and considered his shaking. "Are you nervous?" The words tasted foreign in her mouth, as she didn't often consider V felt such ordinary emotions as anxiety. He always appeared confident to the point of hubris. _Except when I saw his hands and tonight... he doesn't seem so self-assured. _

"True! Nervous, very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why will you say that I am mad?" he asked in a disturbing sing-song voice. (3.)

_The Tell-Tale Heart…Jesus. _"You're scaring me…I'm worried about you."

"You are?" V said, his head jerking backward in surprise. "I'm touched, Evey."

"Would you tell me what's wrong?" she asked in her least pressing voice.

_I may be going mad._ Out loud, he said lightly, "I believe my past may be catching up with me."

"What does that mean?" she asked, her voice higher than its normal pitch. _His past? When he was a prisoner?_

"It's an epic tale for another time, if at all," he said in a calm voice. "I can only assure you that what is happening to me does not extend to you."

V bent his face closer to hers, and Evey felt pinned in place by the full force of his regard. "I ask you again: Do you trust me?"

* * *

(1.) Moore, Alan and David Lloyd. V for Vendetta Graphic Novel. 

(2.) Yeats, William Butler. "The Second Coming". Also quoted in the V for Vendetta Graphic Novel. Whoo-hoo! The GN rocks my socks. In a different way than the movie but still…

(3.) Poe, Edgar Allan. The Tell-Tale Heart.

**Alright, the good news is that this is the first part of chapter seven and the second part is already written. I decided to post this installment in two sections because I am currently without a beta. Guardian and I mutually decided to part ways. So, this chapter was betaed by yours truly and I ****really**** don't enjoy editing my stuff and I am also pretty sucky at it, as anyone who has followed this story knows all too well. I figured a small chapter would be easier to handle than a large one and hopefully helped me keep my typos and general butchering of the English language to a minimum. Here's hoping!**

**The bad news is that the next part, which contains some long overdue smut, really needs to be betaed by someone else because I have been accused of under-describing and sex needs to be descriptive ;) I have had an offer so hopefully it won't be very long until it is posted. (crosses fingers)**

**'Thank you' time… **

**To Guardian, thanks for everything :)**

**To Vaudeville, thanks for trying to edit this, but I understand that a busy college schedule doesn't lend itself towards betaing, especially my stuff! **

**And most of all, to all reviewers, you rock! Reviews make me writhe in ecstasy. Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a tad, but I do treasure each and every one. You make this all worth while. Thank you so much!**

**Two notes:**

**1. I added a blurb at the end of Chapter 2 which explains Jenkins a little. **

**2. Some of you may be wondering why I referred to Batch 5, the GN version of what the government injected into V at Larkhill. Well, I like the explanation it gives for V's intelligence and strength, as well as possible mental instability, better than the vague descriptions in the movie of the St. Mary's virus affecting him. In my mind and for this story, I am going with assumption that he was infected first with the virus, and after a cure was derived from his blood, he was then injected with Batch 5 because Delia realized that she had a unique specimen and she believed it might actually work on him instead of killing him like the rest of her subjects**.


	8. Atonement Part 2

Evey consulted her inner workings and considered how much she should be concerned about V's behavior. He had never been 'normal' by ordinary standards. Constantly wearing a Guy Fawkes mask, incessantly quoting Shakespeare and talking about murder with chilling indifference didn't fall under typical conduct.

"_Did you kill Lewis Prothero?"_

"_Yes, I killed him."_ Evey remembered thinking at the time he might have been talking about what he planned on making for dinner or the functions of the quadratic equation.

_Murdering with that same coldness? All the tortures he devised for me? _

Evey knew these actions screamed abnormal, but she had never questioned his sanity. He was eccentric, certainly; obsessive, without a doubt; remorseless, perhaps; but essentially rational, a trait she did not question until now.

She looked at the smooth, white curves of V's mask, forever frozen and enigmatic, but she could feel his sincerity. _Do I trust him?_ She considered that she had left out his most defining trait from her list, his brutal honesty. _He's the only person who's ever cared about me enough to tell me the truth. I still believe him when he tells me he wouldn't hurt me. _"Yes, I trust you," she answered in a steady tone.

V reached out and took both of her hands gently in his own and bent his head over them, almost touching the tops of her hands with the forehead of his mask. He straightened after a few seconds and said in a soft voice, "Thank you for believing in me."

Evey felt tears sting her eyes at the naked gratitude in his voice. She dropped her chin, trying to control a hitch in her chest as she realized a truth about herself. _It tears me apart that the when I show him the slightest kindness it always sounds like it the first time it's ever happened to him. I don't want him to make love to me because I'm hurting, angry or lonely. I am, but that's not the point, I _feel _for him. I think I might be in love with him._

_God help me. _

"Why are you crying, Evey?" he murmured, releasing her hands and placing his hand underneath her chin to lift it. The upward movement of her face made her tears trace slow trails down her cheeks.

Evey looked into the frustrating blankness of his eyes and felt all of his intimidating attention was fixed on her, "V, I-" She snapped her mouth shut before she could say it, frightened of his reaction, terrified of the words.

"It's been a long night," she said after a moment of hesitation, wiping away her tears in rough strokes. From the dreams to the exhausting conversation she had shared with V, Evey felt this statement was true because it _had_ been one of the longest nights of her life. She found herself quietly amazed at the realization after the many endless hours she had spent in her cell alone with only her crushing loneliness.

V removed his hand from her face, his mask still trained on her. Evey chewed her lip as he continued staring at her and she had a mental image of his unseen eyes fixed on hers, boring straight through them and into her mind. She knew it was foolish in the extreme to believe he could read her thoughts, but she was sure that he knew she was lying and that he was disappointed in her. _I'm such a coward. _Evey reached out to place her hand on his arm, but he turned his back to her as she moved towards him, either not noticing or pretending not to notice her intention.

"V, what are you doing?" she said in what she hoped was a calm voice.

"You'll see," V said mildly, but she thought she also heard eagerness beneath.

"I should rephrase. Actually, you won't see," he said now sounding amused, moving to stand in front of her.

Before Evey could ask him what he meant, he surprised her by placing the loosely twisted silk over her eyes and deftly tying it at the back of her head. She shuddered and opened her eyes on blackness. _I do trust him; I do trust him. _

After a long period, when she became acutely aware of the sound of her breathing, she heard V murmur into her ear, making the short hairs on the nape of her neck stand up, "Is this making you uncomfortable? We can stop, if you'd like."

"No, but this is strange," she said evenly enough, trying to hide how much his closeness was affecting her. "Not what I expected," she said and felt a blush heating her face.

"I apologize, but I'm afraid certain concessions must be made for my condition," he said this in an uninflected manner that touched her more than if he had said it with self-pity.

"It hurts to hear you say things like that," she said as she guessed the reason for the blindfold and felt her pulse speed up at the thought of him unmasking.

"It is only the truth," he said gently. She felt goose bumps rise on her skin when she felt his steel lips graze her earlobe.

Not knowing any response, she cleared her throat and said, "Except for being blind-folded, this reminds me of when I sat on the kitchen table and you fixed me up after I came out of my cell."

Evey sighed at the loss of his contact as she sensed him move away. "Hmm….yes," V said in an unsteady voice.

Evey heard an indistinct sliding then a metallic _clink _on the surface of the dresser. She swallowed a lump in her throat when she realized the only thing that separated her from seeing the face he hid with such care was a thin barrier of silk. She felt a brief, wild impulse to rip off her blindfold and finally see him, but she controlled herself because she knew if she did that he would never forgive her. _I would lose his faith forever. _Letting out a breath she wasn't aware she was holding, she reached out her hand out to touch him and felt her wrist caught by his hand. He squeezed it for moment and then placed it back on the dresser. Evey groaned in frustration at his this latest refusal of her touch and wondered why he wouldn't allow her to feel him. "Please, why won't you-" she asked in frustration.

"Beautiful thing," V said, as if she hadn't spoken. He moved to stand in front of her, his face inches from hers. "I saw you." (1.)

Now that he removed the thin veil that camouflaged his extraordinary eyes, the eyes that had disturbed Delia and he had protected from the initial violent blast at Larkhill, he could see her clearly. The only time he had seen her with his eyes unfettered was when he donned his various guard disguises, but even then he worn contact lenses to conceal their true color.

Knowing that he would probably not get the opportunity again, V took his time gazing at her features, from the full curve of her lips to her flawless white skin. _So pale it's almost translucent_, he thought as he stared at a delicate web of bluish veins at her temple.

Evey felt him place his hand on her cheek and leaned into his palm relishing the feel of the warm leather on her skin. She wondered vaguely how his hand could make her feel so much pleasure when it had been responsible for causing her so much pain. In a futile gesture, she closed her eyes beneath the blindfold in delight, shivering as his index finger traced her cheekbone.

"Where is the pain?" V's voice was not much more than a whisper. (2.)

Evey's breathing became more rapid as she attended to the feel of V's hand and listened to the soft sound of his respiration. She couldn't help feeling disoriented by déjà vu, as she once again recalled him treating her wounds after he released her. "I don't understand," she said, as she clutched the edge of the dresser hard enough to whiten her knuckles.

Instead of answering, Evey felt him remove his hand from her face. She pressed her lips together in disappointment, but she then felt him laying both his hands upon hers, which were still holding the edge of the dresser. His hands remained heavy and still upon hers and she was surprised how she could feel so much warmth coming from his hands when they were shielded by the leather of his gauntlets. As the heat sank into her skin, she was reminded of the few precious times her parents had taken her to the seashore and she had felt the suns rays penetrating and relaxing her muscles in the same way. She sighed in pleasure and released her death-grip on the dresser.

"You showed me your legs, scarred (as a child) by the whip," V said in a low murmur. (3.)

Evey swallowed hard at the turn of his words, and felt him lift her hands in his. His thumbs again brushed over her bruised knuckles; it was a sensation that both soothed and stung her tender flesh. _Why is he reminding me of what he did?_ She had a vivid memory of V dragging her to her cell by her ankles, her hands scraping against the uneven concrete floor.

Evey opened her mouth to ask him why he was pointing out all the pains he had inflicted, but she was stunned to silence when she felt him place his lips on her hand in a soft kiss. She held her breath as he trailed moist kisses over each wounded knuckle, amazed at that his lips weren't rough as she had imagined them to be, but were instead hot and silky against her skin._ He's kissing each hurt he caused. _Each gentle touch of his lips sent a shock of pleasure through her and she wished she could feel the heat of his lips warming hers. She felt a rush of warmth between her thighs and squeezed her knees together.

"…I was overcome by amazement and could do nothing but admire and lean to care for you in your quietness-," V spoke, turning her hands over and placing a kiss on the center of one palm and then the other. (4.)

Evey felt V return her hands to the dresser and sighed at the loss of his touch. She was again alone in the dark, waiting breathlessly for where and how his hand would caress her next. She winced a little as she felt his hand come to rest lightly on her still tender shoulder, where he had dislocated it. He gently massaged the sore muscle with his fingertips, easing the tension.

Evey heard V exhale a long breath as he pushed the collar of her night-shirt off her shoulder. As V's mouth brushed over her collarbone, she moaned softly and felt an answering groan from behind his lips. Evey shivered as she felt the tickle of eyelashes and the feel of his half-parted lips against her skin, as he moved to the point where her shoulder met the slim column of her neck. The need to touch V's face overwhelmed her, but she had a strong feeling that he would stop her as he had before, so with great difficulty she kept her hands still and placed herself under his control.

"You lethargic, waiting upon me, waiting for the fire," V continued in hushed tones. (5.)

Evey shuddered as she felt V's hand move downward, pulling her night-shirt completely off her shoulder, so that her breast was now exposed. She wondered if he meant his words when he saw her wasted body. _Am I still a beautiful thing, V?_ _Is that what you see?_ Imagining his eyes pitying her as he looked at her emaciated frame, she brought her hands up to cover her breasts, but her wrists were once again caught in his, this time almost roughly. Evey tried to twist her hands out of his grip, but stopped with a gasp when she felt V's heated breath exhaled on her nipple, causing it to harden almost painfully. _I don't understand how you can want me, but I want you so much it hurts._

"And I attendant upon you, shaken by your beauty," V said in the same reverent tone, which sounded almost like a prayer to Evey. (6.) He placed his lips close enough to make the lightest contact with the surface of her skin. As V watched her press her legs together and moan at his slightest touch, he considered abandoning his slow exploration of her body, his mute apologies, and instead obey the impulse to force her legs apart and thrust his aching shaft inside her. He could almost feel her slick walls stretching as he pushed himself in as far as her body could accommodate him. Taking in her flushed skin and the tantalizing smell of her arousal, he knew she wouldn't try to stop him and would welcome that fierce embrace.

_She would let me do anything to her right now. _This realization, and the astonishment that accompanied it, helped him control his desire and reminded him that this was not about satisfying himself and was only about Evey. _This is an atonement, a sublime penance… the only 'sorry' I will ever offer._

Evey felt her hands released and V's lips brush her nipple and then felt them close gently upon it. Swirling his tongue around the swollen peak, she unsuccessfully tried to stifle a cry of pleasure when she felt hard, even teeth lightly graze her tender flesh. As far as her increasingly incoherent thoughts would allow, Evey knew without being told that V had never been intimate with anyone and was humbled by the thought that he would choose to do so with her. She found the thought almost as exciting as the way his lips and tongue felt as he gently sucked her nipple, occasionally stopping to deliver a delicate bite to her flesh.

V removed his lips from her breast and said in a husky voice. "Shaken by your beauty," (7.) _I must be gentle, I must try to make this good for you, my beautiful, brave Evey,_ he thought, as he again considered pushing her legs apart forcibly and sinking deeply inside her. He imagined his red, unspeakable flesh pressing upon her flawless skin and calmed again. _I must remember what I am. _

"Shaken," V said, trying to control his voice from mimicking the word. (8.) He centered himself and looked at Evey with all of his concentration. He considered his next move out of the infinite possibilities that presented themselves in bright, textured images to his mind. After a moment of concentration so deep it was almost trance-like, he nodded to himself, coming to a decision. He placed his hands on her knees, and instead of demanding, he gently coaxed them open.

Evey tried to control her labored breathing as she felt V's gloves sliding up the inside of her thighs. She felt the brush of his hips on her knees as he stepped between them, and was disappointed when he stopped short of bringing his pelvis in contact with hers. She choked down a sob of frustration. _Don't stop! Can't you see how much I want you? Why won't you let me show you how I feel? _Her hands twitched as she thought about setting them on his waist to try to draw him closer, but she stilled them, not wanting to feel them clutched in his and then pushed away before she could touch him, rejected once again.

Evey felt his hands halt their progress and felt him remove one of his hands on from her thigh. He placed it on her cheek again, his thumb tracing the curves of her mouth.

"Where is the pain, Evey?" V asked in a meditative voice, his thumb stroking her bottom lip. "Is it here?"

Evey felt confusion once again and then attended to the smooth texture of his glove which both soothed and chafed the tender skin. She realized that she must have bitten her lip hard enough to cut it earlier, when she had lied to him. _He noticed. He notices everything! _

In her embarrassment at her constant transparency to V, she had almost forgotten his other hand on her thigh until she felt the tips of his fingers stroking her moist slit up and down through the cotton of her underwear. Evey moaned at the sound of V's deep respiration near her ear and the delicate contact on her sensitized flesh. She realized that he was waiting on an answer and finding it difficult to concentrate with his hand continuing to administer feather-light caresses between her thighs, "What?! I don't know what you want from me," she said and felt tears threatening to spill from her eyes again.

As Evey began mentally cursing her forced blindness and his choice to start speaking in riddles at this time, she heard V sigh impatiently. He ceased his soft caresses to her lip and then removed his hand from her face entirely while his other hand stopped moving over her mound. "V, wait…don't stop…" She heard a whisper of movement and something falling with a small _whump _to the floor as he removed his hands entirely from her body.

"Or is it here?" he asked in a sharper voice and placed his hand on the raw flesh of her chest where she had injured herself repeatedly after her dream. She froze in confusion at the turn of his words and mood. He wanted something from her and he seemed impatient that she wasn't giving it to him. She was still getting used to the idea that he had emotions and V upset was still new and disturbing. "V, I don't understand-" Her sentence ended in a hiss when she felt his fingers, no longer clad in their usual leather, push aside her underwear and slightly part her delicate flesh, but not enough to penetrate her dampened folds.

She felt him bend down slightly and administer a light kiss to the sensitive skin on her chest and let out a cry when she felt the ridged skin of one of his fingers sliding inside her slowly.

Evey heard V emit a long sigh then say quietly against her chest, "Why are you harming yourself?"

(1.), (2.), (3.), (4.), (5.), (6.), (7.), (8.) Williams, William Carlos. "Paterson".

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**Happy Belated Fifth! I'm going to keep my incoherent babblings to minimum this chapter and just say many thanks to Arsonist for taking a look at this chpater and to Nyasia for the awesome tip. Most of all... thanks for reading!**


	9. Author's Note

Hello, everyone! I wanted to give an update on this story since it has been sitting so long. I have been really flattered by the many readers who keep putting this story on their favorites or alerts though I haven't updated in quite some time. I want to thank you for your continued interest. Even more, I want to say the positive reviews that I have received for this story have really overwhelmed me as I never dreamed it would be well-received. They meant more to me than I can say and I really can't thank you enough for them.

On to the bad news… I have lost a lot of my inspiration for this story. It's the same tired excuses: life has gotten in the way, new interests have consumed me, etc. This really saddens me because I hate to leave things unfinished and I put a lot of love into this fic. It is what it is, just fanfiction, but I am fonder of it than anything else I've ever written. What really bothers me is that I left it at a rather cruel cliffhanger for you, my readers. However, I fear at his point I will not be able to keep up the quality, live up to your expectations or my own. I'd hate to see this happen so I will try to finish it, perhaps at a later date.

Maybe I will be able to entertain you again... I really hope so. If not, huge thanks to everyone who has read this story; you kept me going. Cheers!


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